Heroes and Villains
by Horrible's Igor
Summary: Willow Rosenberg is back on the dark side, and she's recruiting Queen Elsa and Doctor Horrible to help her eliminate Buffy Summers once and for all and take over the world. Buffy, with the help of her demon-fighting professor and Olaf the Snowman, must put a stop to these villains before it's too late. What's happens next is anyone's guess...
1. Let The Games Begin

Of the things she'd expected to happen along the way back, a vampire attack on the mountain was not on the list.

Granted, she'd had a lot on her mind lately, so she hadn't exactly been paying much attention to the sounds of the night as she trudged up the snowy trail- it was inevitable that it would've happened; she just didn't think it would be today.

_10 points to me,_ she thought as she wrestled with the vamp. He was strong, stronger than some, but she'd had years of experience fighting vampires and other demons since 1997- that had to count for something. He tried to get her into a choke hold so he could stop air flowing into her lungs, but she managed to grab his hand tightly before he could. She pushed it away and proceeded to knee him in the side over and over, hoping she could get him off her so she could reach for her stake and kill the thing before it killed her. Unfortunately, he held on tightly, refusing to be deterred by her counteroffensive. Instead, he swiftly punched her, sending her head to the side. Taking the opportunity, he wound up again and slashed the left side of her face, leaving a long cut that went directly through her eye. She roared in pain, renewing her struggles. She finally managed to dislodge the vamp, quickly grabbing her stake and stabbing it through the heart. The vampire disintegrated into dust.

Blood pounded in her temples as she attempted to wipe the blood off her face, sending another burst of pain through her head. She would need to get back fast and get medical attention. She might've been a good vampire fighter, but it had been a while since she'd had a brawl- going on 6 months now. That record would have to be changed.

So she righted herself, got back on the trail, and began climbing again. The pain in her head, already fierce, was becoming terrific, like thousands of needles were stabbing the length of the cut with every pulse of blood in her arteries. Red flowed over her face, and more red pulsed in her vision. She could taste it on her lips, and she knew her clothes would be soaked in the stuff. The wound was also making her head spin, making it harder to focus. She barely noticed when she started to speak out loud.

"Stupid, stupid, _stupid. _Can't take on the big stuff yet, gotta get some strength up first. Get some mojo going, then you've got it made. Unstoppable." She sighed. _Either I'm losing it, or I already have. Blood loss can do that. _"Hang tight; always another way." _Oo, rock! _She picked up a rock a little ways off the path and tried to scrutinize it through the red. "How about you? You got any ideas? _You fool, rocks can't talk. You're talking to an inanimate object on a mountainside at 11:30 in the evening. Another 10 points. _"Didn't think so." _Are you losing your marbles?_ She tossed the rock away. It landed in the snow with a small _crunch. _"One day I'll have the biggest rock. Everyone else'll be jealous. They won't have a rock as big as mine." She stopped suddenly, swaying a little, then started to laugh maniacally, the sound echoing softly in the night. "Losing your head, girl… Keep it together. Soon, everything is gonna be golden…" She started to walk again. "Absolutely golden…"

* * *

The next day she woke up feeling _very_ sore, the left side of her face almost on fire. A hand automatically went to her eye to- what, stifle the pain somehow? She didn't understand why that was a thing, but it happened anyway. Thankfully, when she pressed her hand over the wound, she felt a thick bandage instead the mess that was no doubt directly underneath it, given the fantastic amount of pain it was doling out- she was getting a headache already trying to suppress it, and she hadn't even properly woken up. It was going to be a long day…

She got up slowly, wincing, and gingerly made her way out of the room. The hallway was dimly lit, thank god, so she wouldn't have to face an onslaught of brightness when she had the equivalent of a migraine coming on. She pushed open the second door at the end, which had a gold-plated plaque that read "C.R.O.E.". Some wise-guy in the building had come up with adding on the "O.E." to what had originally read "C.R.", but she didn't mind- the reason behind it was rather funny (enough to exempt any reprimanding, anyway): C.R. stood for Conference Room, and with the extra letters it stood for Conference Room of Evil. The lower-level workers and interns took it a step further and called it "The CRoE (read: _crow)_"- a pun on the plaque and also on _crow's nest,_ as one could see the entire south side of the Mount Lassen National Park from the big fancy windows in the wall.

The interns were so _clever._

She sat down in the head chair, starting to spin it as any human who finds a swivel chair must automatically do, but stopped quickly as she realized that that would be a very bad idea if she didn't want to become incredibly nauseous. She righted the chair, breathing deeply and trying to stave off the sickly feeling that was toying with the idea of making her sick _and_ wounded, and pulled out her phone, scrolling through the small list of new e-mails. Nothing terribly interesting- just the usual transaction reports and a few updates on the various side projects the company had going. She finished them, and put the phone on the table, waiting for the inevitable call to arrive any second. A few moments later, it buzzed, the vibration making a grating sound against the polished wood that almost made her cringe. She answered it without even checking the name.

"Yes?"

"Willow?"

"Speaking."

"Hey- it's Boss. I've got something for you: We got visuals working on the bug in the palace. She is a _mess_."

"Oh?" she replied, raising an eyebrow. "How interesting."

"She's _given up._ Gone about _two weeks_ without a word."

"Two?" she laughed. "Really?"

"Yeah- and even better, no sign of her friends still- they ain't coming back. Big mistake."

She grinned. "That, _that_ is very good."

"She is _miserable._ Easy money. _And_, I heard reports of a snowman down south. It's a sign, I'm telling ya."

"Oh, that is excellent," she exclaimed, "absolutely _excellent._ Do you know where?"

"Not far from your old friends. Speaking of old friends, I think we might've found the turncoats."

Her expression soured. Last month three vampires had gone rogue, going god-knew-where to wreak havoc, likely on her company. She presumed Lucky Number Three was the one who attacked her last night.

"Do find them for me, will you?" she replied, her voice dripping with sickly sweet honey, "I hate it when my assets fall into the wrong hands. Fail-" she cut right to the chase, dropping all pretense of kindness- "and I will _skin you. _I cannot afford for them to be taken. Go, and _get them for me. Are we clear?"_

Boss's voice was shaky when he replied, "Crystal."

"Call me when you get them," she replied, and promptly hung up.

She leaned back, processing everything over again. "Wow... _two. _This... will be interesting."

She opened up her contacts list and called security. After three rings, someone picked up. _Three rings,_ she thought. G_uess the caffeine hasn't kicked in yet, but that's a while._

"It's me," she said. "There's been a slight change of plan. We're going to be dialing up our threat level to Yellow, and instituting the incognito protocol for about two weeks. Alert the force. Also..." She stood up, walking up to the window and staring out at the landscape before her. "Send a little message to Miss Summers..."

* * *

When Boss had said that she had been silent for two weeks, he'd been almost right. It was more like three.

Three weeks since everything all went to hell for former-Queen Elsa of Arendelle.

Three weeks ago, Anna had decided that she couldn't be with her sister anymore, and she and Kristoff had left, possibly for good, leaving Elsa alone and far from free. She'd been heartbroken. Worse, Olaf didn't entirely understand what was going on. He looked so confused just having him there somehow made it worse. She sent him off as well, telling him to keep Kristoff and Anna company. She'd made it seem like they were going on a vacation and he could come along. He appeared to accept that story, but made her promise she'd visit him soon. She'd promised, and he left too, calling out "Anna! Sven! Wait up!"

She'd almost forgotten about _that_ mix-up.

But even the thought of her tiny little snowman was almost too much for her to take. She'd spent three weeks with absolutely no will to go somewhere, read something, watch a sunset or sunrise- she'd even lost the will to _eat and drink._ She supposed somehow her magic had some hand in preventing her stay ending in days rather than weeks, but at this point she had lost the ability to care. All she could really do was mourn, thinking of her sister and the kind-hearted ice-harvester she'd literally run off with, snowman in tow. Their voices haunted her, but she found that over the past day or so they were getting quieter. Maybe soon she'd have a reprieve, even if only for a few minutes. She would feel better if she had some silence for once.

But thoughts of the trio plagued her. Olaf was cropping up a lot today, more so than usual. Maybe it was her subconscious trying to send a message, but even his unceasing happy disposition failed to cheer her up. She sighed, wondering what he would say if he could see her now.

"You should eat, Elsa," she mimicked, her voice rusty, "You need your strength. How are we gonna build a snowman if you can't even stand?"

Okay, even for _her,_ this was harsh. But then, she was too unhappy to care.

"What's the point in building a snowman, Olaf?" she sighed, "Nobody's here anymore."

"What do you mean?" she imagined he replied, "You've still got me, Elsa."

"No I don't, Olaf," she reminded him, "You had to go with Kristoff and Anna, remember? You had to leave me here. They didn't want to be here. They didn't ask to be here, and they left because of it. They took you too. And what's the point of a new world if you can't share it?"

A trickle of emotion entered her voice now, but it was almost certainly some of the last left in her. Too much longer and it would freeze.

"That's all I wanted. A new start. And they didn't want it. They couldn't see past their own happiness together, while I saw Arendelle was crumbling. I _saved _them, and they left me because of it." She paused, her throat already sore from speaking. No doubt about it, she was almost at Death's door.

Olaf responded, and even his voice in her head couldn't spin her words into something happy. "They still love you, though.

"I think that's where you're wrong, Olaf," she replied, a pang clenching her heart. "Loved ones come back. She won't."

There came a knock at the door.

Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, but she swiftly cast aside the brief flash of hope that had appeared for a moment. No way Anna had simply changed her mind and come back. Somebody else was here, and she supposed they wanted to talk to her. She stayed still, apathy telling her to forget about them and do whatever she would've been doing already instead. For a moment she debated, but manners and years of etiquette won. She slowly sat up, her joints almost rigor-mortis stiff, and tried to stand. She barely managed to keep her balance, but she did it. Unthinking, she tried to step forward but she immediately stumbled. Clearly her self-imposed fasting had had some effects. She twirled her hand, and a simple cane formed, falling into her hand. She held it as tightly as she could and began making her way to the doors.

* * *

There were definitely benefits working for Willow Rosenberg, it must be said. Medical, the ever-cliché-but-true dental, HR wasn't totally useless, and somehow she had even acquired a custom Tesla car. _In 2011._

So the few flaws were rather glaring in the face of all these amazing things. Travelling to and up a snow-capped mountain in a suit, for example.

"Did they say exactly why we were approaching the Snow Queen?" the first man grumbled, wiggling his toes in an effort to fight off the melted snow soaking through the seams of his shoes.

"No," his partner replied, breath fogging a little, "Boss wouldn't say."

"Huh," the first one responded. "Must be important if Boss can't say."

The other nodded fervently. "It's really important. Boss said to be quick, and you know what that means."

"Lucky us," the first one groaned.

The door handle suddenly _crunched _down, and as the door opened, so did the floor. Evidently it hadn't been opened frequently enough. A pale, frighteningly hollow head with dull platinum hair peeked out.

"Can I help you?" the girl asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she pulled the door open further and stepped out a little. Her dress hung loosely from her body, and the two could almost swear that she was literally skin and bones.

"Would you be the woman called 'the Snow Queen'?" asked the second man.

"I don't go by that anymore," she stated bluntly, "As you can see-" she weakly spread her arms out to indicate the surrounding mountains and valley- "I don't have anything to rule."

"So are you or aren't you?" the man asked again. He took straight answers only.

She sighed. "If you've been told she lives here, then that's me."

He smiled. "Then I have a proposition from our organization for you."

Her eyes widened. "Proposition?"

"Yes," he replied, pulling out the envelope from inside his coat and held it out to her. She took it with a shaky hand., slitting it open with a sharp nail. "Our employer is interested in having you become a part of our company. It will be entirely up to you, of course, but we encourage you to consider it. You will receive food, room and board, everything you need."

She took a moment, skimming the letter, then smiled half-heartedly. "What if I say no?" she asked wryly.

"We will be... disheartened," the first one replied, "but we understand when someone isn't interested."

"And if I say yes?"

"We will relocate you to our headquarters on Mount Lassen, in northern California. You will receive your own quarters, medical treatment, good food, a flexible timetable, and a lot more," he rattled off. Some hated that speech, but it was _fun_ to recite a list sometimes.

"What's the position?" she asked, actually reading the letter this time.

"Co-president," his partner responded confidently.

She paused, her eyes giving him a disbelieving stare. "Co-president? But- but they don't even know me."

He waved his hand. "Our employer has done some research, and considers you more than qualified to become a part of the executive force of our company. We would be delighted if you joined us."

Her gaze became suspicious. "Who is your employer?" she questioned warily.

"We're not at liberty to say," he replied tightly, "We aren't exactly the type of company that works openly with others."

"But you want me to join anyways," she said, raising one eyebrow.

"Yes," the first man said. "We think you'll find it... _suits_ you."

She gave the pages another quick glance. "I'll... think about it," she answered slowly.

"Very well," the second one responded. "We would prefer to have a decision by next week. We're planning a big deal soon, and we'd like to have you on board."

"Okay," she nodded.

"Here's a number you can contact our employer with once you've made your choice. We'll take it from there," the first man said, holding out a business card to her. She took it and slipped it behind the envelope.

"Okay," she replied. "Thank you."

The two men started to leave. "The pleasure is ours," the second one said, and they disappeared behind a rocky slope.

Elsa looked at the papers one more time, then slipped back inside the palace, closing the door and heading to her study. It appeared she had some thinking to do.

* * *

**Morning, folks.**

**Horrible's Igor here. Welcome to Heroes and Villains! This is a prose adaptation of a series of scripts I'm writing and posting to , but hot dang, I can pull a ****_lot_**** out of only about 5-10 pages of script, and they average about 65 a script! Given that I'm planning seven seasons of 22 episodes of ~45 minutes each, be prepared for a LONG HAUL. That said, I still need to ****_write the scripts_**** for about 152.5 of those episodes, so updates will likely be sporadic in some time. I will update whenever possible, so fear not! This fic will not die until it is done. So, sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride!**

**-Horrible's Igor.**


	2. The Future Starts With You

Willow was getting tired of having to do so much thinking.

She'd been spending the last half-hour attempting to go over the fine print of the new deal she'd taken on the morning before, but with her migraine going full blast, it was like trying to look at it through a funhouse mirror. The words seemed to warp and twist beyond legibility if she concentrated on them, which also served to _worsen_ her headache- it was a spiral effect that she really _did not need. _She'd tried nearly everything: aspirin, Tylenol, even magicking it away, but nothing helped. Her head continued to scream with a feeling akin to what she imagined a railroad spike through one's skull would be like. To be honest, she had _never_ felt this way, never in her entire 34-year-long life, which was incredibly worrying for her- Lucky Number Three must've really knocked her systems out of whack the night before. Soon enough it would be the night before last, as the clock was fast approaching 11:45. She tried not to think about the fact that it would be a miracle if she could get to sleep before 1 A.M.

She stared intently at the page before her, silently willing the text to return to normal so she could finally see _exactly_ what she'd gotten herself into. It almost looked like they were beginning to become comprehensible when somebody knocked at the door, sending three savage bursts of pain through her head and another round of nausea through her stomach. "Come in," she called, trying to keep her voice from betraying her state of not-doing-well-at-all. Boss opened the door, stepping in lightly on his feet and quietly shut the door behind him. His face was slightly sheepish- evidently he'd remembered that she was sick after knocking- but she would let him slide on this one, because she didn't want to lash out at a small little thing like that. Those who got mad about trivial matters ended up with either an empty box in their hands or a knife in their back.

"Hello," Boss said, testing the waters.

"Hello, Boss," she replied, keeping her gaze fixed on the paper. It was getting better, but if she looked away no doubt she wouldn't get it back easy. "How'd it go?"

"The boys said she's not looking very good," he reported sadly, "On her last legs."

Willow's heart softened a little right there. She had some semblance of what the Queen was going through at the moment, albeit with glaring differences. Despite that, she knew how it felt to have someone leave you. It was almost like they had taken out your heart, leaving an empty hole in its place that hurt with indescribable pain, leaving you half of what you were and nowhere near okay in any sense of the word. "She's going through a hard time in her life," she said sympathetically, her hard stare relaxing a little bit, "It'll make her strong, though, in the end. It's only through hardship that greatness can be achieved."

"Of course," Boss agreed.

"Did my message get sent?" she asked, changing the subject to something less somber. One of the worse effects of being injured and sick as a result is that it's too easy to get stuck in an angry or depressed mood, and right now she didn't want to feel either of those things.

"On it's way as we speak," Boss affirmed confidently.

"Good," she replied, "I hate it when things get dull. This'll spice her up some." She paused, trying to think of what she knew she was forgetting to ask about. "And the transfer?"

"He's still doing what he does best," Boss answered. "Did you read today's papers?"

Willow was almost tempted to say that very few under the age of 35 read actual newspapers anymore, and she did not fall under that category, but she kept the snark to herself. "No, why?"

"He strikes again," Boss revealed, "Crashed the NSA's servers for a full twenty-four hours."

She raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Nice. We'll send his boss a letter after we get our newest recruit up to speed, and then... then the real fun starts."

She allowed herself a split-second to picture what would happen in just a few days' time- she would have the two most formidable individuals to walk the planet at her side, ready to take on their enemies and conquer the world. As long as she played her cards right, she would have the strings all in place, and soon the people would be her marionettes.

"I don't like him," Boss admitted tightly, snapping her out of her daydream.

"Who?" she asked.

"The boss," Boss replied, sounding rather uncomfortable, "I was never a big fan of stallions to begin with, but he is something even worse."

She gave up on trying to read. It had seemed to be getting better, but after a while it just plateaued. "He's the boss for a reason, Boss," she reminded him. "Go now, and tell me when she comes back."

"Roger that," Boss confirmed, and exited the room as quietly as he could manage.

She stayed still a moment, trying to feel for some barely-perceptible change in the roaring pain in her head, but couldn't find any sign that the pain was fading. Resigned, she pulled out her phone, calling up the keypad. She hummed the tones for the numbers to herself as she dialed, hitting the green button and bringing it up to her ear. This time the phone rang only twice before picking up on the other end.

"Hey there, it's me," she said. "How are things going down south?" she inquired innocently.

"We are reasonably well," a smooth, cold voice replied. "We await your arrival with bated breath."

"Good, good," she smiled. "And everyone else?"

"The team is holding up," the voice answered, "Although too much longer and someone might start to go stir-crazy."

"Glad to hear it," she responded. "Listen, I'm going to have to go off the grid for a little while, so you won't hear from me for a bit. If anyone from the League asks, tell them we'll have their stuff ready by Friday, 'kay?"

"Very well, Miss Rosenberg."

"Wonderful. I'll call soon. Bye."

"Goodbye."

She hung up, resting the phone on the table. "Now then..." She stood up, a fresh burst of pain erupting in her head, and opened the door. She made her way down the corridor without to much difficulty, although the flight stairs proved a challenge with her vision swimming about so much. Who decided they should be called 'flights' anyways? They had exactly nothing to do with aviation. Thankfully, she made it down without incident. She went through a few more twists and turns until she found herself at a door that read "**CLEARANCE LEVEL 5 NECESSARY**" in large white letters against the black wood. She opened the door and stepped inside.

This room was nowhere near as refined and high-end as the rest of the facility. It was clean, sure, but there was a distinct feeling of neglect to it. Rather than soft white wall lighting, there was an incredibly dim glow reminiscent of moonlight that came from no visible source, and the walls, while just as well-kept, seemed to exude an inexplicable aura of dilapidation and desolation, almost making the air feel colder and moist. Of course, the very reason it was like this was for the express purpose of sending off anyone who took a peek inside. This room was not meant to be entered for those who were unfit. This elaborate smoke-and-mirrors setup helped to keep what was inside in its place: a lone silhouetted figure sitting in a black chair in the middle of the room, hair unkempt and clothes drab. She closed the door, locking it, and stepped closer to the person in the chair. "And how are you doing today?"

"Vision always comes with a price," the figure answered in a voice like a rattlesnake's hiss, raspy and slithering, "This is mine."

"I know," she replied, trying to shake off the uneasy chill that permeated the room. "I have a question for you."

"The visions have told me as such," the thing replied matter-of-factly. It stared a moment, then said in a mockingly sweet hiss, "It would seem you're anxious to get that bandage off your eye, dearie. Is it bothering you?"

Willow's hands curled into fists. The figure took every opportunity it could to patronize her, and she absolutely _hated_ being talked down to. Couple that with the headache and the aforementioned bandaged slash through her left eye, and she was already past her tolerance. "It would bother anyone," she snapped, trying to remain calm. She wouldn't get anywhere by getting hissy. "Do you have any answers for me?"

The figure grinned, leaning back a little in the chair. "There are a great many things that have been made known to me, my dearie," it stalled, "and it is hard to keep them all in order sometimes. It would appear they are trying to move around in my head again-"

"Just _tell_ me, dammit!" Willow snarled.

The figure froze, a surprised smile on its face. "Oh-ho-ho!" it exclaimed, setting the chair back onto all four legs. "Testy now, aren't we? Very well, very well: calm your mind, and I will find what you seek."

She took a deep breath, trying to empty her mind, but the swirling chaos couldn't be completely eradicated. The pain demanded to be felt, and she just wasn't in the proper mental and physical state to block it out. Still, she did her best. The figure straightened its posture, tilting its head up For a few seconds it was silent, then it stood, approaching her softly. "The future speaks to me now," it rasped, beginning to circle around her, "So much is to come... So much that concerns _you_, dearie. But you want specifics... You want names, you want dates, not happenings. I see... I see a shell of a man whose only reprieve is villainy... a woman shunned, left to die of regret... But wait... something stops her... something calls him... She has a letter now... looking it over..." It chuckled softly, its breath cold on her skin, "She wants to say yes... But she can't bring herself to say the words, not even to herself. He doesn't know it, but soon he'll be asking himself the same questions... 'Could I really do it?... Join her?'... They both need a push... something to send the past their fear and into their destiny... _Evil."_

For the first time that day, Willow found herself smiling. Her proverbial light was getting closer now. "What do I have to do?" she breathed.

"You need to show them," the figure replied softly, still circling, "You need to help them see the evil in them... Make them pull the trigger... and they will follow you."

"Beautiful," she sighed happily, "Absolutely perfect... Thank you."

She felt it lean in towards her left ear. "The pleasure," it whispered, "was all mine, dearie."

* * *

Today was not a good day for Olaf the Snowman.

It had been three weeks since he, Anna, and Sven had all left Elsa's castle in Yosemite (Olaf believed it to be pronounced Yo-sem-aight-ee), but a week or so into their vacation, he'd realized that this vacation wouldn't be anywhere near as fun without Elsa to be there with them. So he pestered Anna and Sven for a few days nonstop, filling every silence with questions about when Elsa would be coming and would she be coming would they have to send her a card telling her where they were would they try one of those telee-phonee things or something _wait, _what about-

Anna had then suggested that he go back and find her himself. Suddenly it made total sense to the tiny snowman. Elsa was _waiting _for him! She didn't want to have to make the trip alone- she wouldn't know how to get where they were going, and she would be super lonely without a friend! So Olaf would go back, find her again, and the two would run back to Anna and Sven and they could go on vacation as a family again! Everybody would be so happy!

Unfortunately for Olaf, he failed to grasp the connotations of Anna's suggestion. She hadn't meant it as a solution. She had snapped it, like someone who is so tired of hearing how hungry someone is they lose their cool and yell, "Then why don't you _eat something?"_ Olaf took this literally: Anna said to find Elsa himself, so he would go back and find her. The biggest, most glaring aspect he'd forgotten was the small problem of the sheer _size_ of the world. Yosemite was approximately 220 miles away from Reno, where Anna and Sven said they'd be leaving from that day to go to some place called Minneapolis (Minée-a-pole-is), and a _lot_ happens in 220 miles. _Mountain ranges_ can happen. _Valleys._

So it is hardly surprising he became hopelessly lost.

A week and a half later he was in Sunnydale, a good 300 miles _away_ from Yosemite. Even Olaf knew when his odds of finding Elsa were slim, and right now he was certain that he had taken a wrong turn somewhere, because there should've been _mountains_ and _snow_ and a tiny little _village_ in a _valley_ surrounded by _trees._ Now he could practically smell sea-salt on the wind he was so far west. And all this walking and hiking through California was beginning to taint even his unbreakable optimism with the bleak taste of reality. Anna would've told Elsa he was coming, right? She must've known, and if she knew, then that begged the question _Is she looking for me?_ She was the Snow Queen! She probably knew where every single flake of the stuff was in the entire _universe!_ And since that must be true, she must know where he is! _  
_

So why hadn't she found him yet?

Olaf's mind began to go down a road darker than any that you would imagine such a cute, fun-loving, warm-hug-giving snowman _could_ go down. It just wasn't _right_ on a fundamental level of Olaf's existence. Something was seriously wrong with Olaf and his mother. If _Olaf_ was getting sad, then Elsa must've been in absolute _mourning_. Of course, Olaf had no idea about the slightly-there psychic link to his creator, but it was a side-effect of the fact that she did, indeed, know where almost every snowflake she cared to know about was, but she believed Olaf had done the right thing and stayed with her sister. Now she stayed in her castle and slowly wasted away, and some of that depression wormed its way into Olaf's mind. He tried to shake it, but i was no good. Maybe giving it a voice would help- he could babble on about every thought that came to mind until the worse thoughts were all thought out and he could be happy again. So as he walked down an empty street in the city of Sunnydale, Olaf decided to talk to Elsa._  
_

"Hey Elsa," he started, forcing good cheer into his voice, "Is there enough snow up there to build a snow-me? Well, _I'm_ made of snow already, so I guess _snow_-me is't the right phrase. But anyway, how you doing? We miss you a lot." He switched to his impression of Elsa. Unlike Kristoff's voice for Sven, this was not a totally accurate representation. "I know, Olaf. I miss you a little too, but I'm happier now. It's nice up here." The bad thoughts were beginning to come back. Suddenly this plan to spew them out seemed like a terrible idea, but now that he'd started they just kept coming. Maybe the reason she wasn't coming was far worse than simply forgetting- but- but-

"Well, that's nice, I guess," he continued, his voice a little weak. "It would be even nicer if you came down though. It's sunny down here."

Another bad thought, an old one from two days ago. Anna and Elsa had been shouting directly before they all left. Maybe Anna hadn't _in__vited_ Elsa. Maybe it was the Eternal Winter but reversed and not about protecting but something not so nice that split them up. These bad thoughts were becoming scarily close to the truth- Elsa's link with him was becoming too in tune for their own good. Hopefully soon it would fade back to its normal background noise.

"No. I won't," he mimicked, "Kristoff and Anna don't want me anymore. If thats the way they want it, they can have it that way."

_He'd gotten Kristoff's name right, for goodness' sake._

"But what about me?" he despaired, his façade abandoned. If snowmen could cry, he would be on the verge of tears. "Don't you want to see me?"

"I do, Olaf, I do. It's just that you're less important than them to me, so it's not worth it." Now their _fears_ were lining up. Elsa was afraid Olaf would forget about her, despite the fact that that's what she'd been trying to accomplish, but nobody wants to be forgotten by one of their closest family members. Now Olaf was afraid that the Snow Queen wasn't coming because she no longer wanted to.

"Oh. I see." His breath hitched. "You don't care about me anymore. You would rather die than see me."

"That's, right, Olaf."

"Okay. Bye, I guess."

He'd been right to think it was a bad idea. Now those nasty fears were running rampant in his brain, stifling the sunniness that normally inhabited it. Elsa's depression coupled with the questions niggling at the back of his mind had led to a disaster of the mind.

"You're kidding yourself, Olaf," he sighed despondently. "She doesn't want you anymore. She'd come _back_ for you if she did... Loved ones come back. She won't. Gonna have to earn how to _deal._ You're not in Arendelle anymore. You're in Sunnydale. Different worlds."

The link relaxed its death grip ever so slightly. The thought of the fact that he was in a bright, cloudless city on a warm fall afternoon was managing to etch away a little at the darkness. "At least it's sunny and warm in winter here, right? There's a change." Even though it didn't completely work, Olaf grabbed onto that little detail and ran with it as far as he could. "Makes sense. It's _Sunny_dale, and it's Sunnydale for a reason! Might as well enjoy it!." Trying to banish the last of those pesky doubts from his mind, he began to skip down the sidewalk, looking around. Maybe what he needed to do was ask around and see if anyone had seen Elsa. She had to be _somewhere..._

* * *

**What a whirlwind _that_ was.**

**It's 12:30 A.M... I think I'mma post this chapter and hit the sack. Leave a review- I am open to suggestions for fine-tuning this!**

**-Horrible's Igor**


	3. Slipping

The next afternoon, the doctors told Willow that she could _finally_ take that giant bandage of off her eye, switching to an at-all-times eyepatch. When questioned about whether it would be necessary, they merely scoffed, because they just _knew_ that that eye was blinded for good. It wouldn't be fully healed by any stretch, they warned her, so she had to be careful about not putting any pressure on it, otherwise the wound might open again. When she asked how bad it would look, they had all shifted around uncomfortably before the anaesthesiologist had said, "It won't look pretty." She'd grinned at that- she'd highly doubted that it would anyways, but sometimes it was just a tiny bit funny to watch them squirm and try to figure out how to phrase it gently, as if their jobs were on the line. She may have been _evil_, but she wasn't going to fire anybody over _sugarcoating._ Same formula- empty box or free knife.

So she went to her room, sitting down in front of the small double-sided flip-mirror on her dresser and began the crusade every person who ever has needed a Band-Aid has undergone: getting the darn thing off as painlessly as possible. Of course, this is impossible to do painlessly. Band-Aid karma, so to speak.

She began picking at the upper-left corner, trying to loosen the adhesive enough to grab the flap and _gently_ peel the entire bandage off. As she'd expected, it wasn't exactly easy or pain-free. "Ow. Ow." A _little_ more… "Owowow_ow…" _She finally peeled it enough to start pulling it off, but another round of adhesive-pain erupted when she began pulling the thing off, which in turn livened up her migraine- _drat_, it had _finally_ started to go down that morning, but now it looked like it would be coming back for an encore performance. _"Owwwwww. _Stupid bandages," she huffed, pausing for a moment before trying again. "Why are they always so- _ow-_ hard to get off?" She peeled it a tiny bit more, then quickly decided that the best course of action was to just rip it off in one fell swoop- like jumping into a _really_ cold pool. Steeling herself, she tightened her grip on the bandage, took a deep breath, then yanked her hand back. The bandage came off, curling up a little at the corners, and the patch where it had resided burst into pure, undiluted _agony._ It felt like she'd gotten the worst rug-burn _ever_ directly over her eye, nearly overloading her brain, and that _damned headache_ came back full-force, stabbing directly between her eyes like a knife. _"OW!" _she howled, instinctually covering the spot with both hands. _Pressure pressure pressure they said not to apply pressure you fool you're gonna open it up again._ _"Shit. Ow… _Note to self: don't do that again."She slowly brought down her hands, keeping her eye closed. The pain was thankfully already starting to die down around her eye, but the migraine was sticking around longer. She took another few seconds to pull herself together, then opened her eye and looked in the mirror at her face. Her new, horrifyingly marred face.

The slash travelled from the far corner of her left eyebrow to just above her upper lip and a bit to the left of her nose, going straight through her left eye- or what was _left_ of it. Where her eye should've been, there was a blackened, bloody mess, her eyelids forced shut and covered in clotted blood, and the nastiest black eye she'd ever had surrounding the scar. Positively hideous. It would be impossible for anybody who looked at it not to wince. She frowned, looking at the wound with mild concern, which, considering how one would normally react to such a mark, was being oddly okay with the fact that her _eye had been put out,_ but she had good reason. With magic positively crackling underneath her fingertips, it would be a cinch to heal the thing. She'd only gotten it dressed and bandaged because for some reason her magic was finicky at the moment, but a little experimentation earlier seemed to assert its return. So she confidently raised her arm and waved her hand over the wound, feeling a surge of heat in her hand as it healed the scar. She felt the edges tingle a little, and she almost began to smile- until she saw the mirror again after the split-second disruption her hand caused to find that it hadn't worked. Her frown deepened. She knew for a fact her magic was back at 100%. She tried again, the heat in her hand and tingling returning, but nothing concrete happened. Her confidence wavered- if she couldn't heal it… She rapidly waved her hand over her face, forcing the magic out- and it _didn't work. It did. Not. Work. _

She could barely process it. She was permanently scarred for life. She would be unable to see with her left eye ever again. She would never look the same again, and she would be half-blind. Lucky Number Three had been _extremely_ so- he had given her a permanent handicap that she could do nothing about, a constant reminder of the _one time_ she failed- that _one bad day. _She would never be able to look in a mirror without remembering that _once, _she had made an irreparable error, and it had cost her an eye. Rage began to burn in her chest, and her reflection in the mirror shot daggers at her. "Well," she said calmly- though venom dripped from every letter- bringing down her hand slowly and placing it on the dresser, "It's seems I've got a souvenir." She took a few deep, mildly quick breaths, still scowling at the mirror. The anger boiled up into her head, tinting everything frighteningly red, and suddenly it flashed down her arm, sending her hand towards the mirror. It struck the plastic frame, and the thing went flying, smashing into the wall with a satisfyingly loud _CRASH _against the wood, the frame cracking in two and falling onto the broken glass with a slightly less satisfying _thunk-thunk. _As the red pulsed in her vision, she buried her head in her hands, trying to hold onto the last thread of sanity left in her- and failed miserably, the burning fury in her head and heart overtaking the cool rationality she depended on to keep things running smoothly and consuming it whole. She began to giggle maniacally, almost having an out-of-body experience. Her movements felt almost like they were being remote-controlled, with only a vague sense of _me _to remind her that she was completely in control of her body right now. She brought down her hands, still cackling madly. "Well how about _that," _she laughed, "Little Miss Hair-Trigger gets what's comin; to her. Can't count her chickens before they hatch, they'll claw her eye out if she does!" Her thoughts began to break down, regressing into simple vibes and directions of _mad _and _wrong_ and _angry_. "What did she expect from that? Everything would just go away with a wave of her magic hand? Ha! Doesn't _work _that way. She needs to be _patient._ She can't have everything! Gotta lose some to get some, and it looks like the price this time 'round is her pretty face!" She broke down into giggles again, the feelings shifting more towards _fine_ and _worth it _and _soon_. "Ah… But little Willow's moment's comin'… She's gonna get the big guys to come out 'n play with her. They come out 'n they can all go out 'n play some fun games in the field… Always liked a good game… It's fun to have a big castle to use for playing…" _Game. Set-up. How?_"Gonna need some things to play with, though… I know what they'll play with!… Play with some pretty lights, some shiny guns mayb-" **_NO! _**"_No!"_ she shouted, shooting up from her seat and quickly backpedaling into the foot of the bed behind her. _"No guns!_… She doesn't like guns…" _Evil. Kill. Murderer. _"They took her friend away…" _Sad… Catalyst… Evil. _"Made her what she is… and oh, I don't like her one bit." Her gaze fixed on where the mirror was, and though she knew it wasn't there she could swear it was there but it wasn't showing her reflection not the way it was anyway it was her but angry and cold and scary and oh… "She scares me…" She began to move away from the hallucination, but dared not look away from it, almost afraid that if she did the evil reflection-not-reflection would come out and attack her and hurt her and hurt her and it was too scary to let her guard down on and "I don't want to play with her… She's scary… She makes the game too real… I don't like it when the game starts to hurt… It's not fun anymore… And she'll be back soon, real soon now…" It dawned on her that it didn't matter if she looked away- she would come back anyway and then everything would be even more not-okay than it already was. She knew what she would do to the poor girl in the palace, and she wanted no part of it. "She's gonna come back and she's gonna be so mad at me… Can't have her looking bad in front of her friends…" She could feel it- she was coming. She couldn't see her but she was coming back and she would not be happy, no sir, not one bit. "I'm sorry…" she pleaded, "I don't get much time alone… I like to talk sometimes…" She was close, really close now… "Please, I'm sorry…" Oh god she was _here_ she was _here!_ "I didn't wanna get you so upset over it!" _RUN! RUN! RUN! _

_But she knew in her heart she couldn't outrun her. She began to cry, covering her face with her hands and folding in on herself, trying to shield herself from the danger impossible to see. As she sat there, she could feel her mind stitching itself back together, back into the brilliant intellect and stone-cold heart that would bring the world to its knees. The voice in her head slowly died, screaming its apologies until it was no louder than a faint whisper. Slowly, she stopped weeping- _

_and she took her hands away- _

_a_nd she was fine.

"No," she said empathetically, a small pang hitting her heart, "it's fine."

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, far removed from the turmoil that was brewing atop that snow-capped peak, there lay a quaint city called Sunnydale. Nothing much was terribly notable about it- the usual movie theatre, a few malls, sightseeing spots, the obligatory SoCal beaches… There were really only three eyebrow-raising things in this place: a living snowman searching for his mama; countless vampires, demons, and other creepy-crawlies waiting to ensnare hapless victims once night fell; and one Slayer who spent her days working and her nights split between attending school and killing the aforementioned baddies. This Slayer was Buffy Summers.

A few years back, she'd heard that her old nightmarish residence had been rebuilt, she'd just _known_ that that meant the damned Hellmouth had opened up shop again- so it was her duty to fight back. This time, though, she was also going to be sure as she could be that she wouldn't have a repeat of her first attempt at living on her own means- she was going to night school while going back to work for the Doublemeat Palace to make ends meet until she could get a Bachelor's in Criminal Justice. Seemed fitting: Slayer, crime-fighter by nature… what could go wrong? She had to take other classes, of course, so she looked for ones that sounded interesting. One that had caught her eye was Noir California- while perhaps a bit dull, it was being taught by Professor James Marlowe, one of her favorite professors. He had an uncanny resemblance to Ian McKellen, and it helped that he hailed from England. He had a thing for green apples- something about the sourness- and he was always going on about how much pop culture had degraded compared to the classiness of the 40s and such, and knew all sorts of little tidbits from American history, like when each Amendment was ratified and what they entailed. He may have been a little on the old side, but he was the type you either loved or hated, and she was firmly on the 'love' end. If she was totally honest, she would say that part of the reason she liked him so much was because he reminded her of Giles a little.

It was the first day of classes for the 2014-15 year, and Buffy found it to be much the same as before. As she'd hoped, despite a slight portent of boredom to come from the material, Professor Marlowe would see her through once again. He knew his stuff. It had felt like barely ten minutes before she heard him say, "So, for your first assignment, due Monday…". She sighed, packing her things back into her backpack. Next up on the list: let's kill some vamps.

As she headed out, she heard Marlowe call out, "Are you alright, Buffy?"

"What?" she replied, turning back as she processed what he'd said. Despite what one would think, she was not a night person all the time. "Oh, no, I'm fine, Professor. Just a… long day."

The man smiled. "I can imagine. Grading papers all night, however , is a little different from working two consecutive shifts at the Doublemeat Palace."

She grinned. "Trade places one of these days?"

"I certainly wouldn't mind," he smirked, turning to pick up the book he had on the side of his desk. "It would give me a chance to finish my novel." He held the cover up. _Divergent,_ it read.

"I heard about that book," Buffy remembered. "Is it good?"

Marlowe nodded. "Oh yes. The third book doesn't have the best plot, but I feel the emotional intensity makes up for it somewhat." Classic James Marlowe: master of balanced reviews. She almost wanted to suggest he go into the movie critic business. "The main character reminds me a little of you , facing challenges in society, trying to prove yourselves… It's bittersweet. But, sadly, that is the price we pay."

Buffy nodded. To her, Marlowe's one small flaw was his borderline obsession with drawing connections to _everything._ He could find metaphorical resonance in a jar of pitch. "Yeah, that sucks sometimes… I should probably go. Dawn'll be waiting for me."

"Oh, of course," he responded, and she began to leave. "I look forward to reading your paper."

_Paper?_

* * *

Elsa felt like someone had just jump-started her brain. Somebody out there had managed to psyche her out of her stillness, and it seemed like they really _wanted _her. Frankly, the sheer surprise was the thing. Who on Earth cared about _her?_ Especially _this_ Earth, far beyond Arendelle and anyone who ever knew who she was? She sat on a grandoise sofa in the living room of the palace, holding the papers from the envelope handed to her just yesterday. For the longest time she had almost been afraid to try to open it, almost believing it would vanish if she touched it, and she would be alone again. But it was real. It was actually there- and the words were another surprise on their own.

"Dear Elsa," she read aloud- _They know my name?-_ "It is a pleasure to finally contact you. I have been looking for a partner for some time now, and when I started reading about you, I must admit I was rather interested. It isn't every day you meet someone with the ability to manipulate elements." _She knows about my powers? _"With this, and your experience, in mind, I offer you the position of co-president in my company. We look for those with ambition and certain talents to help us prosper, and you are the perfect woman to do so. Enclosed you will find our address, and a number you can contact me at should you desire to do so, as well as a small description of our company. Please look through these documents, and either call me or come to our headquarters and we can talk. Thank you. Sincerely, Miss Rosenberg."

She stayed still, the impact of the letter still hitting her. These people _knew_ about her. She didn't think _anybody _here would know she even _existed_, let alone know her _name_ and where she _was._ It was a little scary- but it gave them a great deal of credibility. If they had managed to find her, they could definitely deliver on whatever they promised. She pulled out the second sheet, placing it over the first, and delved back into the world opening up before her.

"Our company desires to return a semblance of recompense for those who have been wronged by others and seek redemption in some way, shape, or form." _Wronged? _"We are not picky about how we do so- I find it isn't as effective to stick to the law 100% of the time. While you have your wrongs righted, you will also join me in my attempt to better the world." _What does _that_ mean? _"What I need are people who are willing to forego fighting for the "justice" that those who claim to be pure fight for, and go to any necessary means to show them what we go through as the wronged, losing side." _Losing side? _"You will be relocated to Mount Lassen, where our headquarters are housed, and will have the opportunity to have your own wing of the HQ, constructed to your specifications. You will be required to work full-time, but you will have many opportunities to take time off. Consider your resolve before joining- those who have a change of heart will not be allowed to continue their position here. Thank you for considering."

Her head pounded as she slowly stood, leaning into her cane as she stared at the letter. The words swirled in her mind as she made her way to the balcony, the room suddenly too small and claustrophobic to process so much. "Those who have been wronged by others and seek redemption…" she repeated, looking up at the setting sun. "Attempt to better the world… What makes her think that I've been wronged-"

Suddenly it all made sense. The reason she had been given this letter- why she was suddenly so wanted- crystal clear. "Anna. Kristoff." She knew. Somehow, Miss Rosenberg _knew_ what had happened. If she wasn't so dead-on, Elsa might've been offended- but the truth could not be ignored, and she was right. "Leaving me here… Because I brought them… and they left me…" And the more she thought, the more the phrasing made sense too. "I was only trying to help…" And now it was beginning to reach deep inside her, rekindling the fire that had roared inside her for the first days alone, the anger and the bitterness and the vows of never forgiving each other ever again. "They _left _me," she repeated, "they betrayed me… We could've thrived here… Arendelle was doomed and all they saw was leaving it behind… I was just trying to _help,_ and they _left_ me here!" And now the ends were obvious: Anna would have to pay dearly. She had ripped Elsa's heart out, and no amount of love would ever heal that wound. "Wronged indeed, Miss Rosenberg… Wronged in-_deed._" And finally her mind was working again, and it all, at last, made _sense_ what she had to do now. "So you say you'll help me get revenge?… I'm listening."

The rage returned, and she swiftly turned, her powers surging beneath her fingertips as she stormed towards the door. She raised a hand, and the palace doors burst open. The wind began to howl, a blizzard rising up as she marched confidently down the stairs and began her trek down the mountain. She had a deal to make with Miss Rosenberg.

* * *

**First review today. You guys are seriously awesome- you have no idea how happy it makes me feel to see someone actually leave me a message saying that they enjoyed my work. Every time I update I'm afraid that I screwed up a character (I swear, sometimes this feels so forced from them), so reviews really help me to shut up those voices in my head. Thanks again, and the next chapter is coming soon.**

**-Horrible's Igor**


	4. Supervillains

Willow sat at the head of the big conference table in the CRoE once more, staring into space. She had nothing she could be doing right now, and that meant that her thoughts were unfocused, so naturally all she could think about was her injured eye. She still couldn't wrap her head around it. How in God's name did a single, two-bit vampire manage to hurt her so badly? She should've been able to fix herself up no problem, but she _couldn't._ It was a _really_ good thing Lucky Number Three was dust in the wind now- he could've actually killed her. She hoped that the Queen would still take her seriously. Nothing said undependable like a fresh wound.

The phone buzzed on the table. She pulled it closer: _No Caller ID._ She answered anyway.

"Hello?"

"Miss Rosenberg?" said a hoarse voice on the other end, "This is Elsa."

Willow froze. It felt like a bolt of lightning had just struck her. "Hello there, my friend… So you looked it-"

"I'm in," the girl replied, cutting her off. "I accept."

A broad grin stretched across her face. _Victory. "Perfect," _she replied. "That is _perfect."_

"You're right," Elsa continued, "I do feel that there is something you can help me with:

"You see, I recently found myself separated from my sister… and I think it's time that I… _returned the favor._ You say you can aid me?"

"Absolutely," Willow responded swiftly.

"I'm certain you'll understand that I have a caveat," she said aloofly. "You say I can have my own wing of your headquarters- I would like to design my own. No need for anybody to do anything, I can do it myself."

"I understand."

"And you can promise me my reparations?"

"I can get you exactly what you need," she promised, her heart pounding. So close, so close…

"As long as I promise to uphold my end as well, of course."

_Oh god, so close! _"Just help me out, and it's yours."

"Very well. Once again, I accept."

_YES. _"Wonderful." _Yesyesyesyesyesyes. _"I'll send a car with some food- you must be absolutely starving."

"That would be much appreciated, thank you."

"Great. I'll see you soon."

As she hung up, she felt a rush of euphoria surge through her veins. _She had done it. _She had gotten the Snow Queen _on board._ Everything was falling into place, and at _last_ the silver lining was appearing. _"Yes, yes, yes!" _she crowed, springing out of her chair, barely able to stop herself from literally jumping for joy. "Something's going _right_ for once! Oh, it's _Christmas!" _She picked up the phone again, speed-dialing Boss. The instant he picked up, she began talking. "Boss? It's me. She's on board. Get the east wing prepped for construction."

"She is?" Boss replied, a bit flabbergasted by the sudden onslaught he'd just been treated to, "That's terrific! Did she give specs or anything?"

"No, she wants to do it herself," Willow replied.

"Okay, so just a basic once-over?"

"Yeah, clear the area, the usual."

"I told ya, it was a sign," Boss laughed. "One down, one to go, eh?"

Willow grinned evilly. "That's right, Boss… One down… one to go. I'll let you know when we're ready."

She hung up, sweet, pure _victory_ erasing all the frustration and anger from her system. She was ecstatic. She had gotten the Snow Queen! Come Friday, she would be _unstoppable._ She would finally be ready to take over the world, and finally have the board set to prepare to snuff out her enemies- starting with Buffy Summers. She laughed gleefully, reveling in the wonderful sensations of anticipation and triumph with all her heart.

* * *

Despite still feeling the adrenaline pumping, Buffy returned home absolutely exhausted. It was 2:30 in the morning. 2:30! She should've been asleep hours ago- if she'd had a _normal_ life that didn't demand she stay up fighting vampires and demons and all that. The lights were still on, so she called out as she entered, "Dawn, I'm home!… Dawn?"

"Okay!" she heard her sister yell from her room.

"What I wouldn't give for a night off…" Buffy sighed, entering the kitchen. Dawn had left out the mail for her to look through on the tiled island in the center of the room, so she picked it up and begin shifting through it. "HSBC Bank- we want your money!" Junk. "Sign up for our obscure magazine you'll _never _read!" Junk. "And- what the _heck?"_ Amongst the various other letters in the stack, there was one that looked like it was written on actual _parchment,_ and it had a _wax seal._ She'd never seen the coat of arms stamped into the wax before: it looked like a weeping-willow tree, with a banner across the middle that read 'SALIX'. She broke it open, and the parchment unfolded. She flipped it over apprehensively and began to read.

"Hello there, Buffy- Long time, no see. I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd just let you know I'm sticking around, in case you want to meet up again- I've missed you. Merry Christmas. Your friend…" She got that all-too-familiar sinking sensation in her stomach, her eyes widening as she read the name. It was impossible. There was _no way_ that she could have sent that letter. No way, no how. _How? "Willow Rosenberg…_ Shit, shit, shit…" She went for her phone, calling up Xander. After a few rings, he picked up, his voice oddly calming despite what had just shown up. "Hello there?"

"Xander- it's me-" she answered, "I just got a letter from _Willow."_

"What?!" the boy exclaimed, "But I thought she was-"

"That's what I thought!" Buffy interrupted. "We need to figure out what's going on."

"No kidding, Buff," Xander replied anxiously, "This is _not_ normal."

"Dead people don't send letters," she agreed with dread.

"Problem is, I'm busy tonight- got building plans to go over."

"Yeah, I'll call tomorrow and we can talk some more."

"Sounds good."

"Okay."

"Let me know if anything else happens between now and then."

"Sounds good."

"Alright- bye."

"Bye."

She hung up, sinking into the couch in the living room, alarm bells still ringing in her head. "Dead people don't send letters…"

* * *

Two hours had passed since Elsa had made her phone call to Miss Rosenberg in Yosemite Village. Her entire body had felt like it was zinging with electricity, with the excitement that she had been given a new purpose, a cause that she would _gladly _fight for: revenge. Despite what she'd heard from the books as a child, she was unconvinced that it wasn't a good feeling- no, it was _amazing._ The stars in the sky had never been so clear and sharp, the smells of food that permeated the village never so mouth-watering and rich, and she could hear the crickets through the clamor of the crowded streets just as easily as the church bell tolling nine in the evening two blocks out. And through it all, that selfsame _burning_ in her heart was still there, still scorching through her chest, and somehow it was chilling her further- it was a cold fire, the fire of vengeance that raged in the deadliest of humans- the killers. It wasn't at full strength at all, though, and only focused on one single person right now, but if Rosenberg pushed the Queen in _just_ the right direction with _just_ enough power, that small flame could become stronger than either of them could imagine- so the witch would need to tread carefully with the sorceress: _one wrong move…_ could spell the end.

But that threat was far removed right now. The Queen would need to go through much turmoil to be able to achieve such a level of hatred for the Earth- for now, all she felt for the world was an idle anger- anger for the fact their lives were so much happier than hers, when they had gone through so much less than _she_ had. It wasn't enough to act on yet, only enough to sour her temper some: _These people look so happy- it makes me sick. They don't know what _real_ hardship is, and yet their lives are filled with contentment and joy. _I_ had to watch my sister _freeze_ to death because of _me_ and now I'm here, _abandoned_, and I get to watch people who have endured less be happier._

And for some reason, the thing that was bothering her the _most_ right now wasn't the people. No, against all villainous reason, the thing that was drawing her ire was the _aesthetics_ of this world. Nothing like Arendelle. It was so much _harsher,_ and _bright_, and seemed to have devolved from the exquisite architecture she'd read so much about in her homeland to cookie-cutter towers that were devoid of any detailing- just concrete foundation, iron structure, and _glass. All_ they seemed to be was _metal_, _stone_, and _glass. _Yosemite had managed to avoid most of the plague, but the road she was walking down now was simply disgusting. None of the textured cobblestone or wood she remembered having in Arendelle, but something that resembled _pitch,_ with painted lines dictating the midline and side boundaries. And though she was enjoying the heightened senses her excitement gave her, there was always a drawback: the _cars… _the smell of the smoke made her positively _gag_, making her eyes water and sting something fierce. At least the worst they burned at home was oil and wood- these cars were nearly _unbearable!_

As she drew further away from the village, she became aware again of the hollow feeling in her stomach- she needed to eat soon, otherwise she wouldn't be able to get out of the valley on her own power. Her resolve to soldier on began to waver- perhaps she should return to the village and- no, she couldn't buy something, she had no _money_, at least not any they'd take. The thought to search for scraps came to mind, but she tried to force it out, her nose wrinkling at the notion- she was _royalty_, if only by blood, and she was not about to scrounge through the streets for trash like a _rat._ But her hunger was more important than her dignity, and soon enough she would have to turn back. She went a little further, still fighting, then- with an exasperated and dread-filled groan- turned around, crossing to the other side of the road. A few hundred yards later, a car rolled past her- bigger than the ones she'd seen before, nearly one-and-a-half times longer, jet black, and not a speck of dirt on it anywhere. It suddenly slowed down, and she actually was about to pass it when it sped up imperceptibly, matching her pace. The window next to her rolled down, revealing one of the two men who had approached her at the castle.

"Can I help you?" she asked dryly.

"Yes," the man replied, "We're here to bring you to our headquarters. Get in the door at the back. There's food and water in there."

"Thank you," she replied a little stiffly, but in reality she felt incredibly relieved. She forgotten that Miss Rosenberg had said she would send down a car with food- thank God for that. Despite the whole necessity-over-pride argument she'd had, she'd really _not_ wanted to have to stoop so low to survive. She opened the door, ducking inside to find a small _buffet table_ laid out in the center of the room. The top was _very_ recessed, thankfully, so the likelihood of anything tumbling onto the floor was slim. Miss Rosenberg had thought of everything: there was juicy meat, fresh-caught fish, and a diverse selection of fruits and vegetables. On the other side was a seat that stretched the length of the interior, helpfully adorned with seat-belts and cup-holders, and in a cooler to the side: _water. _Ice-cold, condensation-slick _water bottles. _Elsa could barely- well, she could remember _exactly_ when she'd last drank something, but it felt like it had been _decades._ She hesitated a moment, then grabbed a water bottle out from the ice and sat down close to the partition. The car silently turned around and began its return journey. (And yes, this was the aforementioned custom Tesla acquired in 2011, though extensive research conducted by the narrator has exposed the writer for the terrible research skills he has, as Tesla Motors was selling as early as 2007. [Congratulations, idiot.] But still, very impressive.) After a few moments, Elsa asked, "How long will it take us to get there?"

"About five and a half hours, give or take a few minutes," the driver responded.

Elsa nodded her acceptance, twisting the cap of the bottle open (It was one of those bottles that, in their attempt to use less plastic, reduced the cap size, which made it that much harder to grip when your hand is slippery from the condensation). "Okay… I've had worse."

"Don't worry," the other one responded, "It won't take too long."

Elsa managed to twist open the cap, and despite her desire to finish the entire twenty fluid ounces in one shot, took a small, _controlled_ sip- but oh _god,_ it was hard. After weeks upon weeks of nothing, that water tasted like the forbidden fruit- which nobody really knows the taste of, but one would assume it tasted freaking amazing, given that it was forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge. It took everything she had to stop and breathe. Somehow, she kept her composure. "So what will I be doing when I get there?" she asked, her parched mouth already crying for more now that it had gotten a small taste of the deliciously cold liquid.

"You'll be escorted to Miss Rosenberg's conference room," the man on the right replied, "and you'll talk about what you'll be doing in your position, and discuss plans for the upcoming deal."

"What's this deal?" Elsa inquired, slowly bringing the bottle back up to her lips. _Hopefully I can get in a decent amount before I have to talk again…_

"We're negotiating with a group called the E.L.E." the driver answered, "We're attempting to hire one of their workers, but the board leader wants compensation, naturally. So, we're working to get them the things they require so we can initiate the transfer quickly."

_Six and a half seconds,_ Elsa sighed inwardly, finishing off the last sip. "What will this transfer be doing with us?"

"He'll be a co-president as well," the man replied, "Miss Rosenberg admires his ambition."

"So there'll be _three_ company leaders?" Elsa questioned.

"Yes: Miss Rosenberg, you, and the transfer."

"Okay then…" she allowed. _Has this transfer got a name?_ she wondered.

"And also-" the other man said, interrupting her third indulgence of the water, "when you meet with Miss Rosenberg, try not to stare. She's sustained a bad injury to her face, and she's very sensitive about it at the moment."

Well _that_ gave her pause. "How did she get it?" she asked uneasily.

"Vampire attack," he answered, "She was very weak when she got it, but she's better now."

_"Vampires?" _she exclaimed.

"She'll fill you in on the more intricate details of the job when you talk." he answered-not-answered, "Don't worry, you won't deal with them often."

"Okay…" she acquiesced, though still not placated, "That's good, I guess."

"Don't worry," the driver soothed, "You'll be perfectly safe with our company."

_I hope so,_ Elsa thought, _I hope so._

* * *

It was fast approaching midnight as James Marlowe walked through the cemetery on his way home. He had donned his black trenchcoat- it was starting to get cold at night again- and he was content. It was early in the school year, and already he had his lesson plans for the rest of the week laid out, so he could go home with nothing to do for a day or so. He looked around, noticing the thin fog he was walking through. "Isn't this just the sort of thing that happens in the books," he smiled ruefully, "an old man walks through a fog-filled cemetery at night all alone- ha! They never give him credit- he has courage to be in there at all, given how close he already is to death!" He chuckled, pulling out his fob watch. "11:30 already? Well, that's intriguing… Guess the place is empty now…"

As if on cue, a vampire's head poked out from a tree behind the professor's back. He smelled warm blood. As the man continued to saunter through the headstones, the vamp quietly stalked through the wet grass, quiet as a snake.

"I like it like this," Marlowe continued, oblivious to the danger mere feet behind him, "Quiet, peaceful- very good for reflecting on life…" He laughed again. "Look at me- I'm talking to myself… But then again…" He sat down on a headstone, looking up at the star-filled sky. Waxing gibbous. "Talking to one's self is good for the soul…" The vampire was right behind him, trying not to breathe in the delicious scent of Marlowe's blood as it prepared to bite. "And plus-"

Suddenly, Marlowe grabbed the vampire's neck without even turning, and with a loud grunt, flipped it over his head, and it landed on it's back in the grass with a muted _whump._ Marlowe quickly pinned him down, getting directly on top of it and pulling out his stake. "It makes them so surprised when you stake them," he finished, grinning.

* * *

The wait was over. At the god-awful hour of two-thirty in the morning, the Tesla pulled up to the main entrance of the headquarters. Willow smiled, her heart pounding with anticipation as the door slowly opened and Elsa stepped out. The woman's smile slipped- Elsa looked like _hell._ Nothing like what she remembered seeing, Elsa was barely _standing_, she was so thin. She couldn't even walk unaided! Oy vey. On the bright side, though, she had an empty water bottle in her hand, so at least she'd had a drink. She slowly scaled the elaborate staircase, meeting Willow at the top.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Elsa," Willow greeted her warmly.

"And the same goes for me, Miss Rosenberg," Elsa replied, a weak smile appearing.

_Uck._ "Please, call me Willow. No point in addressing me as "Miss" when we're on equal footing here."

"Willow," Elsa corrected herself, taking a look around the mountaintop and at the building with wide eyes. "This is, um…"

"Different?" Willow grinned crookedly.

"Yeah," Elsa nodded, "That sums it up pretty well… It reminds me of Arendelle."

Willow turned around and examined the architecture. "I will admit I was going for an effect of… _grandeur _when I built the place- and as you can see-" she pointed to both sides, where two squares of concrete lay bare, one painted ice-blue, the other scarlet, "I'm also looking to add on a couple of wings."

Elsa got it. "I'm guessing one for me, one for the transfer"?

"Precisely, yes," Willow nodded.

"I'm also assuming mine will be in that blue area?" Elsa hazarded, pointing at the square.

"Red never quite struck me as your best color," Willow agreed, shaking her head a little at the idea. (Now, she said _best_ color. I think we can all agree Elsa would look _very_ good in red.)

"I agree," Elsa responded, her gaze still fixed on the plot.

"So, shall we go inside and discuss what we'll be doing?" Willow said.

"Sure," Elsa nodded, tearing her eyes away.

Willow opened the doors, letting Elsa go through first, and closed the doors. For a few seconds they walked in silence.

"I- have a question for you," Elsa began hesitantly, "if you don't mind my asking."

"Ask away," Willow replied breezily.

"I was told a _vampire_ was what hurt you?" Elsa asked, backing away a little.

Willow's stride faltered. In hindsight, she supposed that question would've been obvious, but still- touchy. "Yeah- got a-" she mimed a claw going through her eye stiffly, "got a lucky shot."

"Do you normally- you know- deal with vampires?" the girl continued.

"Not normally, no," Willow admitted, relaxing a little. "I used to, but that was years ago. Nowadays I try to stay away from them if I can, and, as you can tell, I'm a bit out of practice."

Elsa allowed a nervous chuckle. "So, who is the transfer?" she asked, anxious to change the subject to something safer.

"He works for one of my business partners in a different organization. He doesn't know me, but his boss does." Willow answered.

"What's he do?"

"He's a supervillain, like us." Willow replied matter-of-factly.

Elsa's shoulders relaxed a little. "Okay- at least there's a definite name for this job aside from "co-president"," she laughed.

Willow grinned. "I don't know why I never explicitly call it that in the documents- it would probably would have been easier to understand that way."

Elsa laughed again, more confidently than last time. "What's the organization he works for?"

"It's called the E.L.E.," Willow answered, "They're _very _good at their job. For instance, our transfer shut down the NSA's servers for a full _day_ yesterday. Total chaos."

Elsa suddenly looked very lost. "NSA? Servers?"

Willow mentally facepalmed. _She doesn't know about modern tech, fool. _"National Security Agency," she elaborated apologetically, "Servers hold information in non-tangible form- you can't touch it, but you can use a computer or phone to access it."

"Oh," Elsa replied, obviously still a bit flummoxed.

"Yeah- we'll get you up to speed on technology and the like soon," Willow promised.

"Good…"

They entered the CRoE, where the moon provided enough lighting she didn't have to turn on a light. "So- let's talk about what you'll be doing." They sat down at the table. "Basically, you'll be doing supervillain stuff- fighting "the good guys", getting revenge, the usual deal. Our overall _goal_ is world domination, but that'll take quite some time."

"I see," Elsa deadpanned, tempted to raise an eyebrow.

"Generally, you'll play to your strengths," Willow continued, "For instance, if there is someone fighting us who has a weakness towards ice and snow, I'd send you to finish him off, but if he was weaker towards psychological trauma, I'd likely deal with him myself- I find that one of my strengths is getting into people's heads."

Elsa grew a bit timid in her chair. "While what you propose is quite enticing," she began apologetically, "I must tell you that I'm still not entirely comfortable using my powers. I can… lose control sometimes."

Willow smiled. "And that is why you have _me,"_ she replied, pointing to herself, "I can get into people heads. What I _do_ in there is up to me. If you want, I could help to calm you down if you feel you need it. I could also just talk you down, maybe help you out when we're not busy. It's up to you, of course," she reminded her, "but I'm willing to do anything."

Elsa smiled a tiny bit. "That would bring me a little peace of mind."

"Good," Willow smiled, "I want my people to feel safe here. We all take care of each other, and you are no exception." She shifted a little in her seat, resuming her spiel. "Given that we're really just a few villains working towards a common goal, it's totally fine to do your own thing while the grand scheme is on hold, but when we need you, you have to leave your other stuff to get back to- and that grand scheme will likely help you out with your personal plans. We'll meet here every week to discuss our next move, if there is one at the moment, and we'll also try to help each other out with our various projects when we're not busy; I've learned from experience, when you're sitting around doing nothing, you're going to start losing it. Best to have something to keep your hands working. Keeps the voices in your head from getting too loud."

They both laughed. Unfortunately, they knew all too well what those voices were like.

Willow stood up, and Elsa did the same. "I've had your building area blocked off, so you can go nuts," she grinned.

"Thank you, Willow," Elsa smiled. "I think you're right- you are the person I need right now."

_YES. _"Glad to hear it." She extended her hand out to the girl. "I'm looking forward to working with you."

Elsa took her hand and the two shook on it. "Same here."

The Queen exited the room, leaving Willow on her own. She regarded the door Elsa had left through with a frown. "Close… so close… What's missing? Something's missing, what is it?" She needed to go back to that dark room again. Drat.

By the time she opened the door, the figure in the chair already knew what she wanted. It could taste her question in the air around her.

"She wants to believe she can…" it rasped, "But her heart is too pure to agree. She says she wants revenge, which she does to an extent, but she believes there might be a chance that her sister could forgive her. You need to crush it, and then get to work on the horse. Your window is closing and you know it. He won't wait much longer for his supplies."

"I'm working on it!" she snarled. She'd finally gotten around to reading that file a few hours ago, and while she could do it, she was glad she'd given herself until Friday. "…You say she still believes that her sister can give her her happy ending?"

"She always will…" the figure sighed, "But you need to turn that idea into a dream- she needs to dismiss it, enticing as it sounds… Convince her there's no alternative, as cruelly as you can, and she's yours."

Willow tried not to sigh with exasperation. _Enough with the tip-toeing already…_ "And how would I do that?" she asked.

"I would assume you'd know, given the _doctor's_ reasons," the thing replied mockingly. "Get into her head, dearie, and _break. Her. Heart."_

"Fine," Willow snapped, "I will."

And with that she left, slamming the door as hard as she could.

* * *

***sigh* Poor Elsa... She has no idea what's about to come... and neither do ****_you! _****Woohoo!**

**I thought I'd go ahead and post this chapter early 'cause I love you guys. (And plus, I'd already gotten it half-done yesterday, so...) Enjoy it. Next one should be up around the first weekend of August, but it might be a bit later, so don't get too worried, 'kay? Hope you enjoyed.**

**-Horrible's Igor**


	5. Out of Touch, Out of Mind

11:31 P.M. September 2014. Sunnydale. One man, one vampire.

"Wait, wait!" the vamp screamed as he writhed beneath the man's grip, his voice high for such a fearsome face. "Don't stake me!"

Professor Marlowe regarded him with a cold stare. "Why not?"

"I have _info_ for you!" the vampire shouted.

Marlowe tilted his head, unyielding. "Oh really?"

"Yes, yes, I swear!"

"What?"

"Willow!" the creature gasped. "She's back!"

Marlowe's eyes widened in surprise. _"What?"_

"_Yes!" _the vampire pleaded. "She sent me!"

"Willow Rosenberg, send a vampire at me?" Marlowe questioned incredulously. "Why?"

The vampire laughed, a note of hysteria straining it hideously. "She ain't good anymore!" it revealed, "She's gone bad again! Look, she gave me this to show you!" He reached into his coat, careful to move slowly so as not to have himself ended prematurely, and pulled out an envelope of parchment, _Professor Marlowe_ written in an elegant cursive hand on the front. Marlowe took it, flipping it over to reveal a wax seal embossed with a coat of arms that sported a willow tree with a banner reading "SALIX" cutting through the middle. He slid a finger under the flap, breaking the seal and unfolding the letter, but did not deign to release the vampire from his hold. "Professor Marlowe," he began, sarcasm lacing his tone, "How good it is to hear you're still around. Still teaching Noir California? I was in the neighborhood recently and thought I'd send you this as a token of my friendship, and also-" he paused very quickly as he reached the next part- "also as a _warning_: stay out of anything you might hear regarding Buffy. While I know you care about your students, this is not something you would survive. Not now that _I'm_ back. Sincerely- _Dark_ Willow." For a moment he stared at it, then let out a harsh bark of laughter. "And I'm supposed to believe this?" he asked the vampire, turning back to him.

"She said to read the back!" it replied fearfully, raising its hands up as if to stop him. Marlowe flipped it over, somehow making the _gesture_ say "And what's _this_ going to say?" What he read, however, was definitely eye-catching. "Hans Christian Andersen's _The Snow Queen_, 2003. I was Gerda, she was Kai." His face blanched, and he was quiet for what felt like an age.

"You see?" the vampire asked with panic, eyes darting about frantically. "I'm for real here!"

"Oh yes…" Marlowe agreed, his words heavy with dread, "Yes you are… Go." He stood up, relinquishing his hold on the creature. "Tell her I received her message, and I will heed her words." It didn't need telling twice, sprinting back the way it came through the cemetery. Marlowe sat back up on the headstone, staring through the words on the back into empty space, lost in another time. "'I was Gerda, she was Kai… Oh dear… What on _Earth _could've happened?" He looked at the hazy sky, staring at the stars shining through the thin clouds and the moon casting its silvery light over the landscape, and then back at the browned parchment in his hand. The letter warned him to stay out of anything he heard about Buffy- something he wouldn't survive, he recalled. But if _he _wouldn't he also doubted it would end well for her. He fought with himself for a short while, debating whether he should actually listen- but it was obvious. He shook his head, standing. "I can't let this happen… But I'm no match for her…" And then another thought struck him, and compared to the last decision, this one was even _more _suicidal: "I need the Slayer." With a heavy heart, but with his mind clear and his head high, he altered his course and began making his way to 1630 Revello Drive.

* * *

3:00 P.M. April 2003. Sunnydale. One class, one professor.

"And remember," Marlowe called out as the class began to leave, packing their things and exiting through the doors, "Final exams are in _three weeks! _Study hard, go over old material, and for goodness' sake, remember to get your rest! Nothing spells disaster like falling asleep halfway through your tests!" A few people laughed at that one, one student even flashing a thumbs-up before leaving the room. He watched the class pour through the doors to his left, almost falling into a staring trance when someone tapped at his shoulder. He started, turning around to see Willow standing behind him, hair red and eyes tired, but bright. "Oh- hello, Willow," he stammered, "Sorry, I was just-"

"Oh, no, i-it's fine," she apologized, "You were- you were doing your thing where you do the wistfully watching people leave, a-and I just sorta-"

"No, it's quite alright," he smiled, regaining his composure. "Did you have a question?"

"Well, not so much a _question_, exactly, more like a- a notice," she replied, shifting her books under her arm. "Things are getting a little 'eek' at Buffy's, so I- I wanted to just let you know that I probably won't be able to come to class for a few weeks."

"Oh- yes, of course," Marlowe remembered, "Apocalypse, and all that."

"Yeah…" Willow nodded, "But I'll be here for finals!… I hope."

"Mm- good," Marlowe responded. "How is everyone holding up there?"

"Oy… it's getting a bit tense there," Willow admitted, "Buffy's cracking down _hard- _ and Xander actually lost an _eye_ a few days ago. I'm amazed I had any free time today."

"Oh my god," Marlowe breathed, "Are you _sure_ you don't want any help from me?"

"Oh- no, we've already got Principal Wood from the high school helping, and I think if we tack on another person Buffy might lose it big-time," Willow answered, shaking her head. "But thanks anyways."

"Absolutely," Marlowe replied.

"And it also sucks because the other Potentials think that Buffy's being a little too hard on everyone lately," the girl continued, "Being all like "From now on, I'm your leader as in 'Do what I say'" and other not-so-nice things… Morale is reaching lower and lower lows."

"The way I see it," Marlowe said, picking up the book on his desk, "It seems as though through having to be in this position of power, she's almost forced to see the worst in things _everywhere._ The stress is getting to her. It's like with _The Snow Queen." _He held up the book, which, incidentally was a collection of Hans Christian Andersen stories. "Where Kai has pieces of of a mirror that shows only the worst stuck in his eye and heart, so he can't see anything good."

"Oh yeah!" Willow exclaimed, "And then his friend Gerda melted his heart and the piece in his eye came out when he burst into tears, and they managed to spell 'eternity' and get out of the Snow Queen's castle!"

"That's the story," Marlowe grinned.

Willow sighed. "I wish it was that easy with Buffy- that I could just show up and give her a big warm hug and make everything better."

"Well- if it's any consolation," Marlowe offered, "Once it's over, she'll be back to normal. This is just a trying time."

"I know," Willow nodded. "…I better go- lots to do."

"Fare thee well, Gerda," Marlowe smiled as as she went for the door.

"I'll tell Kai that," she laughed, and the door gently clicked shut behind her.

* * *

The TV droned on as Buffy sat in shock on the couch, the letter sitting on the coffee table before her, the thick parchment refusing to disappear and prove that she was dreaming. It couldn't be true. It simply _could not_ be true. Willow was _dead. _Dead-as-a-doornail _dead._ She had _seen the body._ There was no way anybody could come back from what had happened to her, no way, no how. Something was very seriously up here.

"And prices are expected to start rising soon," the newsman finished. "In other news, the-"

A knock came at the door. Startled, Buffy sat up, then rose and opened the door. To her surprise, Professor Marlowe stood on the other side, looking grim.

"Professor Marlowe?" Buffy asked, eyebrows furrowed with concern. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," he stated. "Did you receive a letter today on this parchment-" he drew a letter from his coat- "and with this seal?"

Buffy looked at it, and the knot of dread in her stomach dropped even further. It was the same parchment, for sure, and if that wasn't enough, the seal was most definitely a weeping willow. Dark Willow was reaching out, and that meant something very bad was on the horizon for them.

"Yes," she answered gravely. "Yes, I did. Come in." She opened the door further, inviting him in.

"And, no, by the way, I'm not a vampire," Marlowe said matter-of-factly as he entered, immediately going for the couch. The two sat down, Buffy's eyes fixing on the open letter resting innocuously on the table. "What does your letter say?" Marlowe asked.

"I have it," she replied, handing the thing to him like it had a light dusting of anthrax. As Marlowe read it, his frown grew deeper.

"This does not bode well for us," he said as he returned the letter to the table. "If she truly is back- we have reason to be afraid for our safety."

"The thing that worries me right now is how she sent it," Buffy replied. "I _know_ it's her, it's her handwriting exactly, even with the little swoop thing at the end of her 'd's." She paused, trying to think of how to phrase the bombshell. "The problem is… Willow died in 2007."

Marlowe's eyes grew wide. "She died?" he repeated.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded sadly, "Vampire got her… Wasn't her day."

"Oh, that poor, poor girl," Marlowe sighed melancholically. "…But then, how is she back now, in her _villainous_ state?"

"I dunno," Buffy admitted.

"Not good," Marlowe deadpanned. "…I came by to suggest we combine forces. As you can see, my letter tells me to stay out of the way of future affairs between you two, and I'm afraid, as both of you are my students, I can't have that. I care very much about my students."

Buffy was touched. This guy, a man going into his mid-sixties, was willing to put himself in the crossfire to stop them from hurting each other. He was capable, definitely, but it was so selfless she almost couldn't bring herself to let him. She had lost a lot of friends, and she didn't want to be responsible for another.

"That's very kind of you," she responded, "but I can't ask you to do that." She searched her mind for a reason why. He would not acquiesce unless she had a very good reason for him not to. "That would be too much to ask of you on top of your job," she pointed out. Above all, Marlowe knew as well as she did that his calling was to teach. He was one of the greats of UC Sunnydale, and no way would he stop.

"I thought of that already," Marlowe answered, and her heart sank a little further. "I can quit and help you do research. I have money saved."

_You're digging your own grave, _Buffy thought morosely, but kept her face smooth.

"While I enjoy Noir California," he continued, "my main interest is in the supernatural, and _fantasy_. If it doesn't exist, I look for something that proves it does. It's my passion."

"I still can't ask you to stop teaching!" she argued. "You're too good a teacher to leave!" _Please, listen to me. Stay with your safe job and life and forget about this. You would die because of me letting you help, and I don't want more blood on my hands._

"They'll find another," he smiled reassuringly. "If I can potentially save lives, Ill gladly abandon my desk for that."

Buffy frantically searched for another argument- but nothing came. He was right. His morals transcended whatever selfish desires he had, so he would take the high road here. _High road to a short pier, _she thought.

"I don't feel good saying it," she began, her voice tight with reluctance, "but okay… you can help. I don't want you involved in any run-ins, though. Handling one vampire is _cake_ next to _her."_

"I feared it would be along those lines," Marlowe admitted. "Very well. I will inform the university tomorrow morning, and then we can dedicate our time to finding out what we're up against."

Buffy renewed her efforts one more time. "Really, you shouldn't."

"Really, I'm adamant," Marlowe argued.

"I don't want you to be in danger," she pleaded.

"I am committed," Marlowe asserted.

Oh well. She had given it her best shot- but it would suck if he died on her watch. "Alright. Sounds good."

* * *

Elsa and Willow sat in the master bedroom, Elsa looking on as Willow meditated. She had approached Elsa while she'd been building her palace, saying that if she wanted, she could actually get in touch with Anna, and the sisters could talk again. At first she'd been reluctant to agree, fearing the worst from the redhead, but Willow had eventually talked her into it. Love and all that. If she was honest, though, Elsa was hopeful. She wasn't lying that she was majorly ticked off with Anna, but a small part of her held on to the idea that they could make amends. It was worth a shot, anyway.

They sat in silence. Willow had told her that to be able to talk with her sister, Willow would first need to ask the gods a favor in order to do so. This particular god was- what was it, Iris? Yes, Iris- goddess of the rainbow, she'd been told. She felt like the name rang a bell, but couldn't put her finger on it. Perhaps something she'd read?…

Willow opened her eyes and turned to Elsa, smiling. "Just a sec. It should appear any-"

Suddenly, a flat circle appeared in front of Elsa, the air around the edges rippling as the thing hovered- and she could see _Anna._ The back of her head and her shoulders were visible, and Elsa could make out the faint sounds of a city around her sister. There seemed to be snow falling.

"As if on cue!" Willow laughed. "Alright, just talk and she'll hear you."

Elsa swallowed, took a deep breath, and then called out, "Anna?"

Anna jumped, whipping around to face the voice. When she saw Elsa, her eyes widened with surprise. "Elsa, hi!" she exclaimed. "How are you doing that?"

Elsa's heart skipped a beat. Anna was happy to see her. She hadn't responded with the vile hate they'd been fighting with before her departure- no quite the opposite, she sounded genuinely _happy_ to see Elsa. So far, so good. One crippling fear gone.

"I- I met someone yesterday who set me up with a magic spell," she replied. A part of her chastised her for not even bothering to say _hello_ first- but she was almost tongue-tied talking with her sister again. She was amazed she had been able to answer at all instead of staring dumbly at her while she tried to think of what to say.

"Whoa, really?!" Anna laughed. "You mean like troll magic?"

"Sort of…" Elsa allowed. "She's a witch- kind of like me, only she can do a _lot_ more than ice and snow… How are you?"

Anna thought for a moment. "We're… okay, I suppose," she eventually answered, nodding her head slowly as if to affirm her answer to herself. "We're stopped up in a place called, uh… I think it was called something like "Toronto"? Anyway, it's nice and cold up here. You'd like it." She paused, then asked, "How are you? You look like you're starving."

Ay- this would be a fun one to explain. Elsa began wringing her hands a little, averting her eyes a little. "I didn't exactly get out of the castle much after you left…"

Anna's eyes widened with shock. "You mean you actually are starving? Are you _nuts?"_

"I"m better! I'm better!" Elsa backtracked, putting her hands up, "I'm getting better. I'm staying with this friend on a mountain in California right now called Mount Lassen. It's snowing a blizzard right now."

"Sounds like your kind of spot," Anna smiled. But slowly, Elsa could see that smile sour. _Oh god, _she thought, _here we go. _"Kind of reminds you of home, huh?" Anna remarked snidely.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elsa asked.

"Oh, you know," Anna replied with exaggerated airiness, "Just that you left Arendelle, the land of snow-capped mountains and ice, and set up shop in a place _exactly like it."_

Elsa scowled. "That wasn't my choice, Anna! I'd have_ loved _to stay at home, but we couldn't!"

"Yes, we could have!" Anna argued, "You were just too _afraid_ to stay!"

"I was _not_ afraid!" Elsa insisted. "The kingdom wouldn't last under _my_ reign, so I left!"

"You could have stepped down, you know!" Anna countered. "That's a thing! Queen steps down, Princess takes her place! Cake!"

And suddenly that slow burn flared up again, and before she could stop herself, she shot back, "Oh, like you would have made a good Queen!"

For a moment nobody spoke. Willow was dead still, watching the sisters with a sort of wary awe as the spectacle unfolded. Elsa realized what she'd just said, and her expression shifted from angry to horrified. She couldn't believe it. She had just single-handedly ruined any chance of reconciliation. It was an unspoken rule of the sisters that no matter what, they would never, ever, _ever_ insult the other's ability to rule. They could shout from dusk 'til dawn about poor relationship choices or argue some more about the three-year period where Elsa and Anna were alone and _still_ Elsa never reached out, but _never_ would they question each other's queenly abilities. Elsa might have had more training, yes, but as heir following Elsa, Anna had to learn some about the throne as well in the event of Elsa's death or abdication. They were _royalty_, fit for the total sovereignty of the crown above all others- to say one of them was _not worthy_ would be worse than a hundred more years of silence between them. It was an unforgivable slight, and Elsa had just thrown caution to the wind and spat the worst venom she was capable of at her own sister. Even at Yosemite she hadn't dared say that, she had _known_ what it would mean- and now she had simply let the thought escape, and she could never take it back. But worst of all, she had _meant it._ She had finally been pushed too far, and she had said it without a second thought.

After the coldest silence she had ever endured, Elsa finally heard Anna respond. "You're right," the girl said, her voice dangerously level and devoid of emotion, "It _was_ a good idea to leave. That way, we could finally get away from each other."

Too late, Elsa found her voice again. "I'm sorry, Anna! I didn't mean it-"

"No! I won't hear it!" Anna interrupted. "You could've had me help you, but instead you took the coward's way out, and took us with you! And you _still_ wonder why we left you? Are you _really_ so _blind?!"_

"I was only trying to help!" Elsa yelled back, tears beginning to stream down her face.

Anna's face froze, and slowly it reverted back to the chilly mask. "Well, congratulations, _Queen_ Elsa," she spat, "Enjoy your kingdom of isolation- I'm not coming back for you again."

Her sister turned away, and the portal silently closed, leaving only the other wall in front of her. Everything seemed too quiet. Her breathing sounded muffled to her ears, which were ringing from Anna's parting words. That fire in her chest wasn't so fueling anymore- she could feel the chill of it burning her now, cold flames freezing her heart and shattering it into a thousand pieces, leaving an empty space and the worst pain she'd ever felt before in its place. She had lost her sister forever.

"Anna…" she breathed. "Come back, Anna…"

Willow was stunned. She knew that it couldn't have ended well anyway, but she hadn't expected it to go just so _wrong._ "God… I'm sorry, Elsa."

"She was all I had," Elsa said, her breath hitching in her throat a little. She could hear the voice in her head saying _conceal, don't feel, conceal, don't feel, conceal, don't feel,_ but she was very mildly surprised to see no ice appearing on the walls, and the blizzard wasn't getting any worse. Honestly, though, she didn't give a damn right now. Bit busy dealing with the worst emotional trauma of her life. "And now she's gone," she continued, a hint of bitterness lacing the words, "left me on my own."

"Even the strongest of bonds can break," Willow replied quietly.

"Yes," Elsa nodded mournfully, her gaze still fixed on the spot where the portal had been. "And it hurts so much when they do."

"I can relate," Willow said.

"Did you have a sister?" Elsa asked.

"More like my best friend," Willow answered. "We used to be close, but we got mad at each other. I screwed up one thing, she screwed up another. It was partially my fault, but we never spoke again."

Elsa turned her head to her. "Does it hurt?" she asked, fearing her answer a little.

"Sometimes," Willow admitted, her gaze growing distant. "If I focus on the memories, yes."

"That sounds painful," Elsa replied.

"It is… I just remind myself that she always has the opportunity," Willow responded, "I won't come crawling to her for forgiveness when she won't talk back. It's an odd coping mechanism, but it works."

Elsa returned her stare to the empty space before her. "I was just trying to _help_ her," she repeated morosely.

"If you were only helping, then you shouldn't beat yourself up over this," Willow answered, "If you're in the right, then _she's_ the one responsible here- not you."

"I don't like to think that way," Elsa shook her head.

"No-one does," Willow admitted, "The reason why is because they know it's true. We feel guilty because we take pleasure in knowing we're the ones who were right, but it's still true."

Elsa sat on the bed, looking pensive. "I guess…" she allowed, mulling it over half-heartedly. After a few seconds, though, the burning sensation began to heat up again, and the sentiment began to sound better to her. It even sounded _right._ "I mean, it's horrible to say, but it kind of _is._ All I wanted was to keep us safe and happy, and she couldn't see it for what is was." And now that doubt was wavering- was she _really_ being selfish in stating the fact of the matter? Family was family- they stuck together, not split up! She had been all for staying with her family! "Instead she just _left_ me, not even _considering_ working it out- and right now, too!" she realized. "We could've fixed over that problem, but she's keeping the bridge burnt out of sheer stubbornness and anger!"

"Some see it as though they're being wronged," Willow replied. _Devil's advocate,_ she thought, _play devil's advocate…_

"But she's _not!" _Elsa exclaimed. She was angry about it now, too, she was getting mad again and that rage was returning slowly but surely and and stronger than ever. "I was _helping_, and she threw it all away because it meant leaving home. She won't see the big picture!"

"People grow attached sometimes," Willow reminded her. The deadly game of stoking the flame was in play now- she had to be careful now…

"Look at me!" Elsa cried indignantly, "Did _I _care when I ran away from Arendelle after I… _slipped up?_ No! I knew it wasn't safe! _This_ is selfishness! She left me without a second thought for how _I _felt!"

Elsa wasn't paying attention, but now the blizzard _was_ responding. The winds began to pick up speed, and Willow noticed. "She was probably just-"

Elsa stood up angrily. "You know what? No! _She_ is the one who is in the wrong here, and _I'm_ the one who has to take the pain of it! She is being _completely_ inconsiderate! I won't take it!"

Willow stood up, a bit nervous now as the winds continued to get faster. "That doesn't mean-"

"I have done everything I can to make sure that she was safe!" Elsa fumed. "I never did anything to hurt her on purpose, but she makes it out so that _I'm_ the bad guy!" An incredulous laugh escaped from her lips. "She is breaking my heart, and she's doing it because she _doesn't like my plan! _Did _I _ever break _her_ heart?!"

"No, but-" Willow tried to interject.

"You know what?" Elsa interrupted, suddenly deadly calm, "I guess it's time I gave up. She wants to be separated so bad, _she can be. _She doesn't seem to care about her big sister- who did everything she could to keep her safe and happy, who stayed away for _thirteen years_ because she knew she was dangerous- I guess she doesn't care about her anymore… so _why should I care about her?"_ And the fire in her heart began to blaze with newfound strength, burning brighter and hotter than ever before. "She thinks that she saw me angry at the coronation? Ha! That was a _taste-test!" _The blizzard blew faster and faster, the windows beginning to actually creak as the gales threatened to break the frames, and Elsa began seeing _red, _red like nothing else before, and every word rang with an unspoken oath to never turn back on them. "I won't forgive her for this- _ever! _She can come crawling to me, and she's going to get exactly what I got- _nothing!"_

"_Elsa!" _Willow shouted. "_Calm down."_

"_Why?!" _Elsa yelled.

"Your blizzard is about to bust my windows!" Willow exclaimed, pointing at the whiteout outside.

When Elsa saw the out-of-control storm, she suddenly felt the rage recede a little, and the storm quieted back to its previous snowstorm levels. The burning was still there, though, and it was still white-hot. Elsa had never felt so angry in her life. Everything she'd worked to keep had just been smashed at her feet- and those thoughts that had smoldered in her head in the village returned. It no longer seemed merely _unfair_ that her sacrifices be in vain while others were rewarded- no, it was _wrong. _She had nothing left now, and the world had everything- she wouldn't say no to setting it ablaze now. "I'll never forgive her," she repeated firmly, "Never."

"She still loves you, though," Willow replied softly.

"That where you're wrong," Elsa snorted, "Loved ones come _back._ She won't." She turned, heading out the door. "I'm going to finish building my castle.

The door slammed shut.

* * *

For a second, Willow simply stared. One voice said everything went perfectly, another said it had gone terribly wrong. She was happy, but she was also incredibly angry and sad. A perfect passage came to mind. "What a piece of work is man…" she began, "How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty… In form and moving, how express and admirable… In action, how like an angel… In apprehension, how like a god…" But it wasn't quite enough for her taste right now. Hamlet was tip-toeing around the truth here, so she would just go ahead and finish it with honesty: "In creation, how like… a muse… In destruction, how like a surgeon, yet an unforgiving grinding stone- crafting its tools through _pain_ and _suffering_."And for right now, she had had enough of the whole heart-breaking game she had to play right now. It was only fun when you weren't hurting a friend. "Oh, Elsa…" she sighed, "I am so sorry." She lied down staring at the peaked ceiling. "Good night, sweet princess… the Snow Queen has taken your throne now… and left _you_ wondering what could've happened… And I'm wondering how I could _let _it happen… Such is the price of evil- you hurt everyone you love as well as everyone you hate- better hope you have less friends than foes.


	6. Just Add Olaf

**A/N: Wheeeeeeeeeeeee- *static***

* * *

And the hour approached 3 A.M. as Buffy sat at the dining-room table, a notepad in front of her as she tried to compile her list of what she knew about Dark Willow. She was a different animal entirely, unlike any Big Bad she'd ever seen. The first time around, she'd been running _hot_ with black magic, and she seemed to have abandoned any sort of moral code- just hell-bent on murdering her enemies. As she wrote, memories flashed through her mind.

_"Please, Buffy. _This_ is your pitch?"_

_"You're always saving everyone. It's getting kinda pesky."_

_"Fly, my pretty, fly… See what I did there?"_

_"She was always just- Willow." *THOOM* "Jeezus!" "What was that?" "Just Willow!"_

She'd been terrifyingly direct in her execution. She didn't have any mind-games or any real plan, she'd just wanted the Trio _dead._ And they would've been if it wasn't for the other Scoobies. Now, though, it would be harder: Xander was in L.A., Giles back in England, the Potentials scattered across the globe and out of contact, and no Anya or Spike this time. Hopefully Marlowe and Xander would be enough of a boost to take her down again, but it would be hard.

But then again… She was wary to consider the possibility, but Dark Willow seemed to be… _different _this time. She seemed to have a plan of some sort, which meant she wasn't going to do anything _just_ yet- was that better or worse? It meant more time to think, but it could also just mean a longer death. For the second time in 12 years, she found herself confounded by the enigma of the dark witch, someone who had lasted for barely a day, yet nearly ended the world; someone who _knew_ the group's pressure points, but barely needed them; someone whose mood could swing from murderous to scarily serene in seconds- and now she was back. She knew so much about Buffy, and Buffy knew so little about her- a deadly mix. But even Willow's plans had flaws, and that meant Buffy could still defeat her. Nigh-invulnerable though she was, Willow was still human, and she would still meet someone better than her.

A knock came from the hall. Buffy started, looking up to see Marlowe standing in the doorway. "Oh- hey there, Professor," she smiled tiredly.

"Hello, Buffy," the man replied, entering the room, "What are you doing?"

"I'm making a list of things I know about Willow when she's like this," she replied as Marlowe looked over her shoulder.

"Such as?" he asked.

"'Majorly powerful, evil, vengeful, murderous'… It gets pretty redundant after that," she sighed.

Marlowe nodded. "We need to find her- get an idea of her intents and location."

Buffy smirked cynically. "Knowing her, she'll let us know what she's doing here- probably in a way that involves getting my ass kicked."

"On the bright side, we'll at least have some semblance of understanding why she's here," he replied with mock unconcern.

"I'd like to know how she did it," Buffy said, brow furrowed in thought, "Coming back from the dead is hard. I would know."

"What do you mean?" Marlowe asked.

"I've died twice," Buffy stated simply, "The second time she brought me back with magic."

"And the first?" Marlowe inquired, eyebrows raised.

"I drowned- Xander did CPR," she answered.

"A very good thing he did," he said quietly.

"It seems like I'm only kept alive so I can avert the apocalypse a little longer every time," Buffy huffed.

"But if you didn't the apocalypse would prevent your return," Marlowe countered.

"I know," Buffy replied. "It just tires me out… dying."

"That generally happens," Marlowe deadpanned.

"And now she's cheated death herself," Buffy said, returning to the conundrum at hand. "That must've been hard."

"I think what we need to do is find her and talk to her," Marlowe said, thinking. "We can't find out much just by looking at what we know."

"And how would we do that?" Buffy asked.

"We would get her attention," the professor answered.

A knock came at the door. "I'll get it," Buffy said, getting up. _Who comes knocking at a door at 3 in the mor-_

The door swung open to reveal a snowman. _Olaf_ the Snowman.

"Hi!" Olaf said, a great big grin on his face as he waved at Buffy. "Have you seen a girl named Elsa around?" he asked as he entered, oblivious to Buffy's frozen form.

Buffy barely moved, only turning her head to keep the snowman in sight. "Umm…" she said dumbly, "I'm not-"

"She's about, like, 5 foot 4, really pretty blonde hair, kinda pale, wearing a blue dress?" Olaf continued, looking back questioningly at Buffy. "She doesn't quite look like the people here, she kinda looks smoother than the others."

"I- I don't think so," Buffy managed, her eyes still wide with shock.

"Huh. Okay then," Olaf shrugged, looking around a little. When he spotted Marlowe, he immediately came for him. "Oo! Do _you _know where Elsa is? She's about, like-"

"I'm sorry-" Marlowe cut him off before he could begin the spiel all over again, "I don't believe I have." He too looked rather amazed. "Uh- um- w-what brought you here?" he asked.

"Oh, I saw you in that cemetery yesterday and I thought maybe you would know," Olaf answered cheerily, "The people here give me weird looks when I ask them, and I thought that since you know stuff that the others don't that you'd know where she is!"

"I'm- s-sorry, but no," Marlowe stuttered.

"Huh…" Olaf said, looking at the floor thoughtfully, "I've looked for weeks and I can't find her! Last time I saw her was when Anna and Kristoff and Sven left and she told me to go with them, but I got lonelyish without her so I thought I'd look for her and she if she could come with us and maybe-"

"Wait a minute-" Buffy interrupted, snapping out of her stillness, "When you say Anna and Kristoff and Sven, do you mean-"

"Oh yeah!" Olaf exclaimed, "Anna's the princess of Arendelle! Or at least she was… Why?

_Whoa._

_Whoa._

_Whoa…_

Buffy gave Marlowe a look, and he nodded, eyes wide. "Just a minute," she told Olaf, "I need to talk with my friend alone."

"Okay!" Olaf replied, and the two walked up the stairs, closing a door. Then he began to count softly, _"One, two, three, four, five, six…"_

* * *

"We have Olaf the Snowman in my house," Buffy said, shocked.

"So it would appear," Marlowe breathed.

"And he said he was looking for _Elsa_- they were all together and now they're split," she continued.

"We have living, breathing… _animated_ movie characters walking around somewhere in the world," Marlowe laughed in amazement. "And I thought I'd seen everything."

"This is nuts…" Buffy agreed. "And he saw you in the cemetery- he followed you here because you knew how to slay a vampire."

"That means he likely saw you at some point as well," Marlowe noted.

Buffy shook her head slowly, eyes blank. "My brain can't handle this."

"Agreed," Marlowe nodded. "Perhaps we should focus on the more important things… Frozen showed us Elsa _loves_ Anna to death, especially through the creation of Olaf. Why would they split up?"

"Good question," Buffy replied, thinking. "Maybe they got into a fight or something."

"I hope not," Marlowe responded. "That family is fiery when it comes to arguments."

"Or icy," Buffy offered.

"Mine was better," Marlowe disagreed.

"But there's the whole ice thing!" Buffy pointed out.

_Motif,_ Marlowe mentally corrected. "Oh, it doesn't matter," he said out loud, pensive, "_And-_ you know something? _Maybe-_ maybe if we found Elsa, and perhaps work this out- she could help us! The Snow Queen-" he laughed, "Oh hoho, she'd be a great advantage.

"I wouldn't say no to that," Buffy agreed. "She's wicked powerful."

"Powerful enough to fight Willow?" Marlowe asked hopefully.

"Maybe…" Buffy considered. "I would probably help her out though- they could just end up killing each other at the same time."

"Then what we should do is find her, and soon," Marlowe decided. "Knowing her, she's in quite a state."

"Agreed," Buffy said.

"Fifty-nine," Olaf's voice said from the downstairs, "Sixty!" Soft footsteps sounded as he bolted up the stairs.

Buffy sighed in exasperation. "How did I forget that?" She opened the door, where Olaf was just about to (try to) turn the knob. "Hi, Olaf."

"Hi!" Olaf chirped, entering the room. "You said a minute, and it's been a minute, so what's going on?"

"We've deduced we've seen you before," Marlowe began, prematurely cutting Buffy off, "in a film."

"Oo, really?!" Olaf asked excitedly.

"Thing is-" Buffy said, shooting Marlowe a '_Seriously?' _look, "we thought it was fictional."

Comprehension lit up in Olaf's eyes. "Fictional? You mean, like, you thought we weren't real?"

"Yeah," Buffy admitted, a little afraid she'd hurt his feelings.

"I never thought I could be in a movie!" Olaf crowed, efficiently erasing any doubt as to whether he was hurt by that. "I mean- I don't know too much _about_ movies, but Anna rented a… BVB or something…"

"DVD?" Buffy corrected.

"Yeah, that's it-" Olaf nodded, "and it was about this group of toys that came to _life_ and did all sorts of crazy stuff together like spy on their owner's birthday party to see what new toys would be there and there was a space ranger guy called _Buzz-"_

"Toy Story?" Buffy guessed, a smile growing on her face as she watched the little snowman.

"Yeah! It was _cool!" _Olaf replied enthusiastically. "Y'know, this world is nifty!"

Marlowe chuckled. "It's not quite so kind on appearance, though. When you get old here, you look all- sunken and- bony…" _Bit late to have your midlife crisis, James,_ he thought.

"No, it's actually really _cool_ that you look that way!" Olaf responded, "It's neat to see it a little bit more _edgy_ than usual- gives you that look of being all pointy and rough and sharp instead of all roundy and smoothish and dulled."

"Interesting," Buffy said, looking at Marlowe with a small smirk then back at Olaf. "Anyway, Olaf, we've been talking, and while we haven't seen Elsa, we're thinking we might be able to help you find her."

"Really?" Olaf asked, beginning to bounce excitedly. "That's _great!_ Where do we start?"

"Well, we haven't quite figured that out, but we're working on it," Buffy replied.

"Oo!" Olaf suddenly raised his hand. "Oo, oo, oo, oo! I know! I could go out again and go one way, and you guys go in different ways and we all walk a hundred miles and come back!"

"That won't work," Buffy responded. "This city's too big, and she's not here- we would be looking for a needle in a haystack the size of Rhode Island."

"What's Rhode Island?" Olaf asked curiously.

"Not important," Buffy waved her dismissively, "I think it's best to start where you guys split up- where was that?"

Olaf thought for a second. "I think the last time I saw her was at this really cool park with a lot of trees- and it was all surrounded by really cool mountains- it was like Arendelle! All the snow, all the trees…" He sighed happily.

"Do you remember the name?" Buffy prompted.

"Oh, I think it was called something like, uh, Yo-sem-aight-e," Olaf said, then nodded at his own words.

"Yosemite National Park?" Buffy asked.

"Oh, so _that's _how you say it!" Olaf realized. "Yeah, it's that one!"

"Okay-" Buffy said, "at least we have a starting point. Professor- wanna tag along?"

"Oh, yes!" Marlowe exclaimed. "I would be interested to see if she made another palace- see if the ice is different as well."

"Cool," Buffy smiled. "Let's go, Olaf."

"Okay!" he agreed, and they went for the car.

* * *

Elsa _hated _this palace. She hated it with a passion, detested every pristine fractal that comprised its icy structure and allowed it to stand past its welcome. It looked almost exactly like her first one, with the modification of a wider grand staircase in lieu of the bridge the North Mountain had required leading to the giant doors adorned with her snowflake. She had designed that snowflake herself. It was her favorite out of all the others she'd seen, one she'd created from scratch during the first years of her isolation. It had been amazing to finally create it, giving it the place it deserved on her castle doors, not just drawn on a sheet of graph paper and left to gather dust in her dresser in her old bedroom. Now, though, memories tainted the frozen sanctuary, leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She had purposefully changed the schematics for her new home, getting rid of the spires- save the top one- and altering the exterior of the tower peaks to have stacked layers that hugged the original design up until near the top, where they then curved straight up, finishing in spikes that surrounded the top. All the rounded parts, inside and out, were adjusted to tessellated diamonds, just to give it more of a cold, impassive air- just how she wanted to feel right now. This was a metamorphosis for her, and she wanted to craft herself into something dangerous, something cold and unfeeling. It wasn't 'conceal, don't feel' again, but more like becoming a Snow Queen in more than just name. The Snow Queen Elsa imagined her new self being was a cold woman, given her stature as Ruler of Winter and All That is Cold- it was a part of who she was. She didn't feel compassion, or love, or anything for anybody. Her heart was a frozen one, leaving her level-headed, unflinching towards her adversaries, and unloving to anyone who approached. It felt unexplainably _good_ to let the cold burn flow freely through her fingertips then, creating her new fortress atop Mount Lassen with a newfound contentment having found her place. She would be unstoppable now. Nobody would ever be able to hurt her again.

She would tread carefully for the moment, though. She would have to wait until she was more physically fit before getting into any little skirmishes. Weakness could mean serious trouble.

She started to raise her hand, intending to change the palace design to something less like home, when she halted. _Love will thaw,_ she remembered. Love will thaw, but now… could she tap into that? Anna was gone now- did she still love her? She felt a small pang at the fact she had to think about it. _Yes,_ she eventually decided, _I do. It's why I have to make her realize her mistake. I won't let her bring herself down. _So she tentatively began to focus on the good things- playing in the ballroom as kids, building snowmen in the courtyard in the winter, ending the eternal winter… and surprisingly, it didn't hurt too much. It hurt, of course, but less than she'd anticipated. It felt nice. She began to channel it, beginning to raise her arms, when she heard voices. They sounded like they were coming this way. She scowled, dropping her arms and heading inside, out of sight. She would have to wait before she could erase the memories in this place.

* * *

The trio were very close now. Olaf was still talking about his experiences in this world, chattering on about all the things he'd never seen before and asking them questions about what felt like everything under the sun. It was good, though. Buffy certainly wanted a distraction from the worst-case scenarios beginning to play in her mind. Somehow, the conversation had returned to movies. _Cars,_ specifically.

"And it's about all these cars that are _alive,_ and they do the thing where they zoom around the track and-" They rounded a corner, and saw Elsa's palace, in all it's frozen glory. Indeed, it looked like it had been taken straight from the movie, with the exception of the new stairs. "It's here!" Olaf crowed happily, "I told you it was here!"

"Wow…" Buffy breathed as Marlowe came around and got a proper look.

"Words fail me," he said, eyes wide with awe.

For a few moments they stood still, taking it all in. It was _gorgeous._ Why couldn't _they_ have a castle like that?

"Let's see if Elsa is still here!" Olaf said, breaking the moment with spectacular ignorance as to its existence.

"So much for sightseeing," Buffy sighed, following the snowman to the doors. Olaf fiddled with the handle, then turned around and called out, "It's locked!"

"What do we do?" Buffy asked Marlowe.

"I suggest we try it ourselves," he replied.

"Okay…" she agreed, grabbing the handle. _Oo, cold, cold, cold. _She tried to open it, but to no avail. "Yep, locked."

"Hmm…" Olaf thought, "Oo! Oo! We should knock!"

_Facepalm. _"The obvious escapes us again," Buffy laughed ruefully, and knocked thrice. The sound bounced off the surrounding rock, echoing loudly. "Ooo… big, ominous echo."

"Is there any other kind?" Marlowe asked rhetorically.

"You know what, Olaf?" Buffy said, realizing something, "Why don't you just move to the side so Elsa can't see you? She might still be upset.

"Okay," Olaf said reluctantly, shuffling away.

For a few moments nothing happened, but then the handle crunched down, and the door creaked open. Elsa's head poked out from behind the thick ice. "Oh- can I help you?" she asked. She looked worryingly thin compared to what Buffy remembered, but not as emaciated as she'd been when those doors had finally opened a few days ago. Still, she had to take a second to process.

"Hi- my name is Buffy Summers," she said, "and this is my, um, associate, Professor Marlowe. We live in a town called Sunnydale and, um, yesterday, your snowman Olaf came to my house."

Elsa looked at her in surprise. "Olaf came to your house?" she repeated.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded. "He was all by himself, and he said he was looking for you."

"Looking for me?" Elsa repeated, a small smile of disbelief forming on her face.

"Yeah- he said he left Anna and Kristoff to find you," Buffy confirmed. "He wanted to see if you would come back with him."

She scowled. "Then it would seem he forgot to mention that my sister and I are no longer on speaking terms," she replied icily, "We've had a fight and I'm _certainly_ not coming to join her on her little _trip,_ nor does she want me."

"Um- okay, then…" Buffy said, a bit surprised by the sudden shift in Elsa's tone. "He did mention you two had fought, but he didn't say anything about that."

Elsa's glare relaxed a little. "Olaf tries to see the bright side, but he can't see when there isn't enough good. That's the one flaw he has."

"I can understand that…" Buffy admitted. "Is it- alright if we come in? It's a bit of a hike back to the village, and we're a little hungry."

"Sure, come in," Elsa smiled, opening the door. As they entered, Marlowe subtly motioned at Olaf to stay where he was. "I'll get started on something," Elsa said. "Some tea, water?"

"Tea would be nice, thank you," Marlowe said.

"I'll take some tea, too," Buffy said.

"Wonderful," Elsa smiled. "I actually have a turkey in the oven- would that be alright for dinner?"

"That would be _awesome,"_ Buffy nodded.

"Sounds delicious," Marlowe agreed.

"Great," Elsa nodded. "Just give me a few minutes and I'll be back with tea."

* * *

An hour and a half later, Elsa was just finishing garnishing the turkey. If she knew more about American holidays, she'd call it a Thanksgiving turkey, and rightly so. Having been shown the ropes of cooking by the best chefs Arendelle had to offer post-Thaw, she was quite learned in the ways of 5-star cuisine. An oven sped things up a lot, which was a nice change. She would have to thank Willow for setting the palace up with modern kitchen appliances- save a fridge. She didn't need a fridge.

She finished up lining the platter with rosemary, then picked it up and brought it out, still steaming hot. She'd had the forethought earlier to bring out the entire kettle of tea for her guests- wouldn't want them running out prematurely. "Sorry it took so long," she apologized, setting down the platter on the table in the middle of the living room. "I learned to cook a very specific way, and it's a little time-consuming."

Buffy looked at the turkey with wide eyes. "Oh, no, that's fine- I mean, this looks _delicious!"_

"It's nothing special, really," Elsa replied modestly, flattered. "When I got back to Arendelle after my little… let's say _slip-up,_ I tried to make up for it by cooking Anna's food for her. I had the cooks teach me how to make the basic things."

"Your basic is my epic!" Buffy exclaimed. "I can barely hold my own against frozen leftovers."

"This is truly very well done," Marlowe agreed, taking the knife and cutting himself a slice.

"It's no trouble," Elsa replied.

"So, I'm curious," Buffy said after a short pause, cutting her own piece, "Why did you leave Arendelle? After what Olaf said, it sounded like things were going okay."

"Again, Olaf wasn't focusing on the subtleties that detract from it," Elsa responded. "Arendelle was doing well, true, but I had a bad feeling about getting back to being Queen. The people were happy, but they could never be too comfortable with someone like _me_ as their ruler, especially after what happened at my coronation- they'd say it was a bad omen. I took preemptive action before they could start to worry.

"Did you have someone who could take over?" Buffy asked.

"I did," Elsa replied. "I had talked with my advisers about it before I left, and they said they would figure things out."

"That has to be difficult," Marlowe said thoughtfully. "The last of the royal bloodline leaving the kingdom. How would they go about choosing a new ruler?"

"My advisors said they would look at a number of candidates and decide amongst themselves who they feel would be most qualified," Elsa answered.

"And the citizens?" Marlowe inquired.

"They'll go along with it," Elsa responded wearily. "While it's strange at first, they'll get used to it- and then I'll just become a story to tell their children about before bedtime."

"Do you think you'll go back?" asked Buffy.

"I don't know if I can," Elsa admitted. "The way I got here was possibly unique to my world. I'm not sure if there's a way back in this world."

"Maybe you could use magic," Buffy suggested.

_Lie,_ a voice in Elsa's head suddenly said. _Pretend you don't know about magic._

"Magic?" she said out loud. "You have magic in this world too?"

"Probably not the same kind as yours, but yeah," Buffy confirmed. "There's witches and warlocks you could find around the world."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I used to know a witch, but we haven't spoken in years."

"Why not?"

"We had a rocky friendship," the Slayer stated frankly. "So much power between us- it led to some bumpy roads."

"That's never fun," Elsa replied.

"No…" Buffy sighed, "it certainly isn't. It's also bothering me a bit now, because I thought she _died _seven years ago, and just yesterday I got a letter from her."

_Wait,_ she thought. _A letter?_

"Do tell," she answered, taking a sip of her tea.

"It was weird," Buffy continued obligingly, "'cause it was on old parchment instead of paper, and there was a _wax_ seal on it."

_Willow said something about this… _"How peculiar."

"And she sounds like she is _not_ happy with me- she wished me a Merry Christmas, which means that I'm probably gonna get a visit from her soon."

"What does that mean for you?" she asked.

"She's probably going to come and beat me into a pulp- all black-haired and vengeance-wreaking," the girl said resignedly.

"Sounds like this has happened before," Elsa replied.

"We got into a _major _fight in 2002- she nearly ended the world after her girlfriend got shot."

Elsa froze for a quick moment. "I'm sorry, did you say _girlfriend."_

"Yeah- she's gay," Buffy replied simply.

"That's… different," Elsa allowed.

Buffy smiled sheepishly. "I'm guessing there wasn't much of that where you lived?"

"I never knew that some women preferred other women," Elsa admitted. "Then again, I spent most of my life in a castle, so I guess I can't say I have much experience with the goings on of the kingdom's couples."

"But yeah-" Buffy said, going back into her summation of doom, "Willow Rosenberg, gay witch that's gone bd and wants to kick my ass."

**_You_**_._ "Hmm. Could you excuse me for a moment?" she asked, standing up. "I want to get started on dessert so that you don't have to sit around again."

"Okay," Buffy replied. "Have fun!"

"Dessert's the best part," Elsa grinned.

* * *

The blizzard had cleared out around 4:00, leaving a good view of the moon rising in the sky through the window of the CRoE. Willow seemed to remember something about the next two full moons being 'supermoons'. What was so super about them? So what, it was a few hundred or thousand miles closer than usual- it wasn't like it had turned bright blue. She stared at it, twisting in her chair a little. That migraine had _finally_ gone away, leaving her thoughts crystal-clear. Funnily enough, this coincided with a marked decrease in things to do. She'd done everything short of chatting with the interns. She needed something to do. _Is there anybody out there?… An-y-bod-y?… I'm _bored_…_

The phone rang, almost as if it had heard her. _Elsa,_ the screen read. She picked up. "Hello- Willow?" Elsa said.

"Elsa. What's up?" she asked.

"I got some visitors an hour ago- we've been having dinner, and one of them mentioned you as their old friend," Elsa revealed.

"Really?" Willow replied with false unconcern.

"Yes. You wouldn't happen to know two people named Buffy Summers and Professor Marlowe, would you?"

**_Them._**

"Are they still there?" she asked after a pause.

"Yes," Elsa responded.

"Why did they come?"

"Olaf was looking for me- he found them."

"Olaf? He came back?"

"Apparently he wanted me to go back with him and Anna," Elsa said, pacing.

"I presume that's not happening."

"Not a chance," she replied fervently.

Willow was quiet for a moment, then said, "Tell you what- find a way to subdue them, and then take them back to the base. I'll take care of them from there."

"Sounds good," Elsa nodded, laughing a little. "First day out on the job."

"You up for it?"

Elsa grinned with anticipation. "Oh yes…" She turned and looked down the hall, where only two little corridors separated her from her new friends. "I've got a hell of a dessert for them."

* * *

**Tell me- do I separate this by season into seven stories of ~150-175 chapters each, or do we go for one gigantic 1200/1300-chapter story? Remember: ~8 chapters per episode, 22 episodes per season, 7 seasons total.**

**Thank you for helping us help you help us all.**

**-Horrible's Igor**


	7. This is Forever

_He watched as the sun set in the west, sinking into the ocean. He wondered idly what would happen if the sun actually was submerged in the sea until daybreak, when it would rise up again in the east and evaporate the water that cascaded off its surface, creating the water vapor necessary to have a sunrise worthy of being captured on film. But it wasn't possible, he decided, because all that water would boil before the sun got within a million miles of the surface. The Earth would burn up in mere hours._

_"Hey," he heard someone say from behind him. He looked up, a smile stretching across his face as he saw who it was._

_"Hey there," he replied as the woman sat down next to him. "What's up?"_

_"It's almost Christmas," she smiled. "What should I get you this year?"_

_He thought for a moment. "I don't know. I've already got you."_

_She smacked his shoulder playfully. "Come on, be serious. What do you want for Christmas?"_

_"An ice pick," he responded jokingly. "And a club sandwich."_

_"Do I have to force it out of you?" the woman teased._

_He laughed. "Hmm… surprise me," he eventually decided._

_"Okay then," the woman replied. "One extra-special Christmas surprise it is."_

_"Sounds good." he smiled. "…Stay with me and watch the movie?" _

_"Sure," she agreed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as the crowd a little ways down grew larger on the sandy beach, the inflatable movie screen rising up, and the last of the sun disappeared beneath the waves._

* * *

As dinner finished, Elsa considered the best way to subdue the Slayer and her friend. She looked through the cabinets, knowing Willow would have left her something, and struck gold: sleep syrup. She opened the little bottle and breathed in the aroma, trying to decide where it would fit in. It was very sweet, almost cloyingly so. In that case, cake was the way to go- and it was obvious what kind to make: _chocolate_. Within 45 minutes, she brought it out, and then some drinks to go with it. While it wasn't a bad idea on its own, it would also lower their guard, maybe enough that they would pass out before they realized what had happened. As the alcohol began to kick in, the conversation shifted to an inflammatory topic: _politics._

For fifteen minutes Marlowe had to explain how the government in the U.S. worked so Elsa could understand what he was getting so riled up about. Then things would get interesting.

"…and so the votes are recorded," Marlowe said, wrapping up, "and whichever candidate has the most votes gains that many _electoral_ votes, usually, of which he or she needs 270 to win."

"That sounds exhausting," Elsa responded, taking a sip of her red wine. "Especially for a country with hundreds of millions of people!"

"It's a democracy," Marlowe sighed. "It's also complicated. Monarchy is easier in that respect."

"But it's quite tiring for that monarch," Elsa countered. "He or she serves for _life-_ a U.S. president serves only 8 years at most!"

Marlowe took a large sip of his wine. "In my opinion, this country's political system is crumbling- there's too much corporate power and the bipartisan system's become dangerously polarized. For instance, put a conservative and a liberal in a room together, mention taxes offhandedly, and they start fighting immediately!"

"Better than a rebellion because of _one person's_ decisions," Elsa disagreed.

"Better _one_ moron than 500," Marlowe spat.

"No system is perfect, though" Elsa reminded him. "Human nature."

"America is one of the worse ones," he replied sourly, "Rockefeller and Gould would be proud, the snakes."

"What did they do?" Elsa asked.

"Rockefeller had a virtual monopoly on the oil industry at the turn of the century- made millions. Gould got a railroad monopoly around the same time," Marlowe explained.

"Interesting," Elsa said.

"And they both went to their graves ill-gotten millionaires," he continued, "corrupt to the core. At least Carnegie had some consideration for his workers in the steel industry."

"What are the worst political issues now?" Elsa inquired, tempted to laugh at how absurdly convoluted the subject was.

"Making drugs legal for recreational use," Marlowe began listing, ticking them off on his fingers, "giving homosexuals the right to marry… fixing our debt…" He sighed. "The list is half a mile long, and I wouldn't touch it with a thirty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole."

Buffy smirked. "You're a mean one, Mis-ter Grinch," she sang softly.

"You really are a heel," Marlowe continued.

"You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel, Mis-ter Gri-_inch." _Buffy finished.

"And that is how I feel about this world," Marlowe summed up.

"Things will get better," Elsa replied, cutting another slice of cake for herself, careful to take it from the half facing her. "They always do."

"So they say," Marlowe responded cynically, picking up his fork again.

Buffy grabbed his plate from him. "I think you've had enough sugar, Professor," she said, taking his fork.

"I was still eating that!" he exclaimed.

"And now you're not," Buffy said, finishing the slice. "My blood pressure's in less danger than yours is.

"You just _had_ to, didn't you?" Marlowe laughed.

"Yup-" Buffy replied, not missing a beat. "It's my job- be the annoying kid who doesn't know nuthin' and has it easy."  
"That wasn't acting, then?" Marlowe asked, making Elsa laugh.

"Acting's not my thing," Buffy shook her head. As she put down the plate, a wave of exhaustion suddenly hit. "Man- that cake is giving me food coma."

"I must agree on that front…" Marlowe replied, his brow beginning to furrow, "but I don't recall ever getting _this_ drowsy because of it."

"Same…" Buffy responded, beginning to think, "What's up with that? Something in one of the ingre-"

The penny dropped.

_I thought that tasted a little too sweet…_

"You sly bitch-" she said, shooting daggers at Elsa. "You drugged it, didn't you?"

"It wasn't anything special," the woman replied pleasantly, like she hadn't just duped them. "This world has some _very_ potent concoctions."

"Why?" Buffy asked.

"I probably should've told you sooner- I'm collaborating with Willow," Elsa revealed, a smile forming on her face. "She wants me to bring you to base for a little chat, and I can't have you kicking and screaming all the way there."

"Because you're a _coward,"_ Buffy spat.

"No," Elsa disagreed, "I just know when I'm outmatched. I'm not quite at full strength yet; I don't want to take any risks, and neither does she."

Marlowe shot her a disappointed glare. "You're a very foolish woman, Elsa," he said, then sank back into his chair, fast asleep. Buffy was out in only another few seconds.

"No…" Elsa said to Marlowe as she pulled out her phone, "you're the foolish ones." _Ring… Ring… Ri-_

"Hello? Elsa?"

"Yes, it's me," Elsa answered. "They're ready."

"Awesome. The car'll be in the village by the time you get there."

"Okay. I'll be there in a few hours."

* * *

Olaf was very proud of himself. He had successfully followed Elsa down to the village unsighted, managed to hang onto the bottom of the super-fancy car she got in for _five whole hours_ (okay, so he technically would be able to do that without getting tired, but still-), and was currently hiding behind a shrub near the entrance of a _huge_ castle. Elsa must've decided to move here- he could see an ice palace connected to the big black one, but it looked different than her other ones, more panel-y and sharp as opposed to walls that almost seemed to blend together into one structure. It wasn't quite so welcoming. But one detail stuck out more than the others as he watched Elsa climb up the stairs:

"Wowie _mama._ This place is _big," _he muttered to himself, moving from behind the bush and bolting up the stairs, momentarily using Elsa as cover before finding a nice corner to look on from. His new friends were lying still on two floating blocks of ice flanking Elsa, but as far as he could tell they weren't dead. Elsa knocked at the door, the sound echoing in the cold air. A few moments later, the door silently opened, revealing another woman about Elsa's height, but nowhere near as pretty. She was pale, which really clashed with her hair, which was black as night, and _what was up with her eye?! _It looked like somebody had sliced right through it! Olaf got a _bad_ vibe from her. The woman stepped out and checked the sleeping girl's pulse. "Shame, really," he heard her say, "I'd hoped Marlowe would stay out of it… But, I guess his heroic tendencies got the better of him."

Olaf began to shuffle towards the door. Maybe he could sneak in…

"How do you know him?" Elsa asked.

"He taught my Noir California class in 2003," the black-haired girl replied. "I liked him. He was a good teacher… And apparently a good fighter- he sent my vamp scurrying after getting my letter."

He was in!

"And then there's Buffy," said Elsa.

"And then there's_ Buffy,"_ the other girl repeated sourly, "the best Slayer there ever was, which is good for the world, and a pain in the ass for you and me, 'cause we're her _enemies_ now. Luckily, I know her well enough to… _dissuade _her from getting too nosy."

Elsa smirked, and her eyes were so chilly it made Olaf shiver. "So what do we do now?"

"We throw them in a cell, of course," the other one said, as if it were obvious. "It's what villains do."

_What? Villains?!_

They entered the castle, not noticing Olaf standing just in the corner behind the door.

"Elsa… what happened?" he said, his eyes wide with disbelief. He scurried after them, careful not to be too loud.

* * *

Ah. They were waking up.

Elsa had come in about an hour ago now, and true to her word, Willow had the duo locked in a cell. It was on par with Clearance-Level-5-room – that is, it was simple, clean, and moonlit. Thankfully, this one wasn't guarded with the most foreboding chills of fear any poor soul who entered would ever experience. No, this was just a simple holding cell. No need to ward off anyone.

Buffy slowly sat up, a sharp frown crossing her features as she did so. For a moment she was still, and then she turned towards Willow. The minute she saw the raven-haired girl, Buffy's grimace became one of the most frightening death glares Willow had ever seen, but she kept her face smooth. Buffy couldn't do anything behind titanium bars. Probably.

_"_**_You,_**_"_ the Slayer growled, her voice menacingly low.

"Me," Willow confirmed with false easiness. "How you feelin'?"

"Like stabbing you," Buffy replied angrily.

"Thought so," Willow responded, turning to the professor, who was just now rising. "What about you, Professor? How are you feeling today?"

"Rather betrayed," he answered surprisingly honestly.

"Why?" Willow asked, tilting her head curiously.

"Elsa," he said bluntly.

"Oh."

"So…" Buffy said after a short pause, her glare unceasing, "Big Bad out on the prowl again- comin' to kick my ass again- and to top it all off, you've got a _movie character_ working for you."

"No, no- working _with _me," Willow corrected. "It's a group thing. You saw how well a hierarchy worked out for the geeks."

"You didn't seem to care about that when you almost killed Jonathan and Andrew," Buffy shot back maliciously.

"They should've stopped him before he could start," Willow dodged. _Touchy touchy, Buffy…_

"Because Short Round and Comic Boy would've turned down Mr. Smooth-Talker," Buffy responded sarcastically.

"They could've…" Willow replied.

For a moment they were silent, when Buffy suddenly smiled. "Nice accessory," she quipped, indicating Willow's fresh scar. "Does it come in pairs?"

"Want one?" Willow threatened.

"Why do you have us here?" Buffy asked suddenly.

Willow stood. "Because I'm trying to make a point, and you two just don't seem to _get it: I'm_ trying to do something big, and _you're _getting in my way. I'm telling you to stay out of it."

"I'm afraid we can't do that," Marlowe shook his head.

"And why's that?" Willow asked with mock sweetness.

"Morality," he replied. "Something you have none of."

"I have morals," she denied, "they just don't apply to you."

"And I'm sure your parents are very proud of you," Buffy snarked.

Willow turned her head to the girl. "C-could you stand up for a second?" she asked patronizingly, receiving another scowl. "Just- just stand up for a sec?" Buffy stood up silently. "C'mere." Reluctantly, Buffy stepped forward. "Bring your face a little closer?" Buffy brought her face forward, until it touched the bars. Willow pulled out a knife from her belt, the blade deadly sharp, and very shiny. "You're right," Willow said, tracing Buffy's jawline with the knife, "this-" she pointed at her blinded eye- "isn't very pretty. Ironically, it was also eye-_opening_, as well as closing. It taught me something- it pays to be proud. It'll end up with you getting hurt. You haven't understood that yet… So I think it's time you _learned."_

Before Buffy could react, Willow suddenly slashed down the side of her face, cutting a line from the far corner of her left eyebrow down to her lip, just missing the girl's eye. Buffy cried out, staggering back against the wall. Marlowe stood very still, looking on with wide eyes.

"Willow-" he managed, his voice slightly trembling, "This isn't the way."

"You're right, I _should've_ gone for her eye," Willow replied, almost like she was critiquing her choice of paint job.

"No-" Marlowe shook his head. "You're still good, at least part of you, somewhere. You can stop this before it starts."

"Yes and no," Willow allowed. "Yes, I can stop it; no, there isn't any good left that'd go for it. I've had a rough time- I'm trying my damnedest to beat back the bad stuff goin' on, and you aren't helping any."

"But that's what we're trying to do," Marlowe replied. "We're trying to _help _you beat it back. This isn't the way."

"But I don't _need _you!" Willow snapped, her composure slipping slightly. "I've got it covered. Just stay _out- of- my- way._"

"Fine," Buffy growled from the corner of the cell. "Will you let us _go _now?"

"Why would I do that?" Willow asked rhetorically. "You won't stay out of this on your own, so I'll _keep _you out of the way. I'll come back to check on you in a few hours or so. 'Til then-" The door opened, and Elsa walked in, a smug smile on her face, "Elsa'll make sure you guys don't get any ideas." With that, Willow and Elsa swapped spots, and the door gently closed behind the witch, leaving them alone.

* * *

As she walked back to the CRoE, she began concocting numerous ways to keep Buffy and the professor out of her hair. Perhaps invest in security cameras, maybe have Elsa stop by Buffy's every so often to make sure she wasn't getting any ideas? Hmm.

Her train of thought was brought to a screeching halt when she bumped into something in the hall. That thing promptly screamed.

"AHHHHH!"

"AH!" she reacted, taking a step back. She looked down to see just _what_ she'd run into, and was surprised to see Olaf standing before her, looking like she'd just scared the living daylights out of him. "Oh-" she said, "you must be Olaf."

"Y–yeah, that's me!" he stuttered.

She smiled friendlily. "Well, what are ya doing over up here, Olaf? Elsa told me you were way down in Sunnydale, or so her new friends told her."

"Well, I was," Olaf nodded, "and then we all came up to Yo-sem-aight-e to find her, but the others told me to wait 'cause she might still be sad about Anna… Is she?"

"Yeah…" Willow admitted sadly, "I brewed up a spell so they could talk, but… It ended badly. She's not herself."

"No kidding!" Olaf exclaimed. "I saw her take the others out and bring them here! I waited by the door until you two went in and then I tried to follow her, but I couldn't find her."

"Did you hear anything we said?" Willow asked, praying he said no. It wouldn't do for him to come in and screw things up.

"Uh… no," he replied, but his face looked troubled. "Why?"

"It's just- she was saying some… nasty things," Willow finished lamely.

"Like what?" Olaf inquired.

"You don't know want to know," Willow avoided.

"No, I _do!"_ Olaf insisted.

"No, you really _don't,_" Willow repeated. "She would be heartbroken, and she's doing bad enough as it is."

"Okay…" Olaf acquiesced. "Do you know where she is?"

"Um…" she pretended to ponder, looking around a little. "Actually, I don't. Huh." She pretended to get a brilliant idea. "Oh! I know what we can do! I can go and look for her _this _way-" she pointed behind her- towards the holding cell- "and you can go the _other _way, and we can meet back here with Elsa!"

Olaf grinned excitedly. "That's _awesome! _Let's do it!" He promptly turned and began walking, cupping his hands and calling out, "El-saaa!… El-saaaa!…"

She watched him vanish around a corner, a small smile tugging at her lips, and she pulled out a walkie-talkie. "Security, this is Miss Rosenberg. If a snowman attempts to open any doors, give it Level 3 clearance- we're playing a little game. That will be all."

* * *

"Elsa," Marlowe acknowledged as the door shut.

"Good evening, Marlowe," Elsa smiled with false pleasantness. "I hope you're feeling well?"  
"Oh, aside from the fact that we're locked in a cell in our nemesis's lair, I'm just dandy, how about you?" he snapped.

"I'm sorry that's how it has to be," Elsa replied evenly.

Marlowe shook his head, a sardonic smirk appearing. "No you're not."

"I thought we could've been friends," Elsa said. "You're a nice man."

"Yes, but I don't associate with those who side with killers," he shot back.

"And there's the rub," she sighed.

"Are you _aware_ how evil she is?" Marlowe asked. "She once _flayed_ a man alive."

"I know," Elsa nodded, a little uneasy. "She wasn't herself, though… She was angry."

"Then what's to say she won't do it again?" Marlowe questioned the girl, his gaze burning into her.

"Nothing," she answered, her voice trembling the slightest little bit. "I don't mind it when it's not so… unnecessary. That was _torture."_

"Oh, and all that other stuff's just peachy," Buffy remarked snidely.

"The other stuff wasn't so… messy," Elsa eventually came up with.

"That's your only problem with it?" Buffy asked incredulously. "That it was _messy? _You must be insane!"

"Like you're any better!" Elsa shot back. "What about when the First was going to destroy Sunnydale? You certainly weren't so pristine either!"

"That's different!" Buffy evaded. "You try handling 30-some scared little girls and make an army out of them! You have to be _tough."_

"There's a fine line between being tough and being ruthless," Elsa replied. "You drove one girl to _suicide!"_

"If she hadn't let the First _get_ to her, she would've been fine!" Buffy hissed.

"If _you_ hadn't given the First such goos stuff to work with in the first place, it wouldn't have happened!" Elsa pointed out.

Buffy was quiet a moment, her face still in that angry scowl, then eventually said, "Nobody's perfect, Elsa. Not me, not you, not your sister, and definitely not _her."_

"I know," Elsa agreed, "The bad guys can suck, but the good guys can suck too- and right now, I'm pretty sick of the good guys."

The door swung open, and Willow came in again, her expression agitated.

"I trust everyone's being _nice_ to each other?" she said.

"More or less," Elsa replied.

"Good. Elsa- a word outside?" She exited, and Elsa followed, making sure to close the door behind her.

"We have a little problem," Willow informed her. "Olaf followed you here."

"He did?" Elsa repeated, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah, and he heard us talking at the door outside- he's onto us; probably looking for those two-" she jabbed her thumb at the door, "and we can't let that happen. Once they get out, they're gonna start coming for us, and we are _not_ ready to let that happen."

"What do we do, then?" Elsa asked.

"We need to get Olaf out of here," Willow answered. "He's looking around for you- presumably- so we need him to find you, and you get him to leave. Sound good?"

"Done deal," Elsa affirmed.

"Okay. Go," Willow nodded, waving her towards the hall, and Elsa began to search. As she walked further away, she heard Willow mutter, "Aaa, _shit…"_ before hearing the door click shut again.

* * *

Where was she, where was she, where _was_ she?

It felt like he had been searching for hours. This place was _huge!_ All sorts of different rooms and halls to look through, some filled with people, some not, and some that were blocked off or locked shut. It could take _forever _to find her here!

On the bright side, even something seemingly infinite was not. He was _bound_ to find her soon. So he forged ahead, looking for any open door he could to search. Top floor- nothing. 3rd floor- nothing. 2nd- nothing. As he made for the stairs, he heard someone call out from the ground floor, "Olaf… Ol-af…"

It was Elsa!

"Elsa?" he called out, just to be sure.

"Olaf!" he heard her cry. "Where are you?"

"I'm upstairs, hang on a moment!" he yelled, sprinting for them. In his haste, though, he slipped, tumbling down the stairs until he hit a wall, squishing him a little. "Elsa!" he crowed jubilantly as he saw her, standing and fixing himself up before throwing his arms around her legs.

"Hi, Olaf!" she replied, picking him up and hugging him tight. "What are you doing here I thought you were with Kristoff and Anna."

"Well, I was-" began Olaf as she set him back down, "but- I got lonely without you. I thought I could come back and bring you back with us.

"You came all this way just to ask me back?" she repeated softly.

"Totally!" he nodded. "You're my best friend."

"Oh, Olaf, I wish I could," she said, her expression saddening, "but…"

"But what?" asked Olaf, slightly oblivious.

"Anna and I… we had a fight," Elsa said reluctantly.

Olaf's grin froze a moment, then slowly melted into a very deep, uncomprehending frown. _"What?"_

"She won't let me come back," she continued morosely. "I doubt we're even on speaking terms anymore."

_"What?" _he repeated disbelievingly.

"I'm sorry, Olaf," Elsa sighed. "We just can't be together."

"But why?" he asked.

"It's complicated," Elsa replied, trying to dodge the question.

"But- but you said it would be better here, and it _is!" _he said.

"She doesn't see it like that," she shrugged.

"That doesn't mean you can't be together, though!" Olaf replied, the conflict so easily resolved in his innocent eyes.

"Yes it does," Elsa confirmed sadly. "the only thing that could please her is going back, and I can't do that."

"Why not?" Olaf inquired.

"Because we would be driven out eventually- by fear," Elsa told him.

"Fear?" he repeated, confused.

"The people would become too afraid of me to keep me as queen. Then, we would be cast out."

"Really?" Olaf asked.

"Yes," Elsa nodded. "Anna thinks we could talk them down, but I know better."

"That's such a stupid detail to be fighting about, though!" Olaf stated indignantly.

"It isn't, really," Elsa denied. "We would have a hard time finding somewhere to go. Given the situation there, I doubt we'd be taken in elsewhere."

"So you were right! Problem solved!" Olaf said with an air of finality.

"Olaf, Anna won't admit defeat in a thousand years," Elsa reminded him. "We can't be together."

"This makes no sense, though…" he said, his brow furrowed with confusion and hurt.

"You should probably go, Olaf," Elsa said softly. "I bet they're worried."

"No!" he refused. "I'll only go if you go!"

"Olaf, I _can't,"_ Elsa repeated, her voice tight.

"We could persuade her!" Olaf countered.

"She wouldn't have it!" Elsa denied.

"But you're family to each other!" he reminded her.

"And sometimes families break apart!" she replied.

"But they _heal!" _he argued.

"Not this time!" she negated.

"I won't let it happen!" he declared.

"Olaf, it already _has_ happened," she reminded him, anger beginning to seep into her words.

"You can still fix it, though!" Olaf disputed. "You did it before!"

"I can stop an eternal winter, but I can't fix this!" Elsa said frustratedly. "This is forever, Olaf, and so is this situation!"

"It doesn't have to be!" he challenged.

"Olaf- there is _no way back_ now," she said, trying to end the argument.

"That's not true!" he denied, getting a bit mad himself.

"We can't have everything, Olaf!" she exclaimed. "We can only take as much as we can, and this is it!"

"You could work something out-" Olaf tried to begin.

"OLAF!" Elsa shouted, cutting him off. The snowman jumped a little, his eyes wide with surprise. "It's _over._ We're _through,_ and you can't fix that! If you can't get that yourself, I will _make_ you get it, _okay_? GO."

It felt like someone had impaled Olaf through the heart. If snowmen could cry, he would be just about to cry a river. "Elsa…"

She pointed her finger towards the giant double-doors. "GO!"

And he did, but with every step a sharp pain struck at his heart, and the world was once again a dark and unhappy place to be. Everything had come crashing down around him in the span of one month, and he would never be able to fix it up just right again. As he reached the door, he looked back one last time at Elsa- his friend, his creator, his mother- and she jabbed her finger at the door again, a frightening scowl marring her beautiful face. He turned around, and with the heaviest heart he'd ever had the misfortune to carry, left.

* * *

The door to the cell swung open, and Elsa entered with a deep scowl.

"Olaf?" asked Willow.

"Gone," Elsa replied curtly.

"Good," Willow nodded.

"Olaf?" Buffy asked, surprised.

"Olaf," Willow confirmed.

"Olaf?" Marlowe repeated, looking less surprised.

"Olaf," Willow repeated again.

"Hmm," Marlowe hummed.

"Why was he here?" Buffy inquired curiously.

Willow looked to Elsa for permission, to which the woman shrugged. "Olaf was here to see Elsa," Willow answered. "Apparently he followed her here. Looks like their conversation didn't end well for him."

"What did you do to him?" Buffy asked worriedly.

"I sent him to go back to Anna and Kristoff," Elsa stated bluntly. "He'll live."

"Where are they?" Buffy asked.

"Somewhere called Toronto," Elsa replied. "He could find them anywhere, though, so it doesn't matter."

"He had trouble finding _you," _Buffy pointed out. "What makes you think he'll find them any easier?"

Elsa thought for a moment, then responded, "Nothing, really- besides, it'll give him time to get it into his head that I'm not coming back."

"That's- that is _cold,"_ Buffy shuddered.

"I'm the Snow Queen," Elsa reminded her with a cold smirk. "What did you expect?"

"You really are now," agreed Buffy, "to the point where you abandon your family for good."

"I tried it before," Elsa reminded her. "Maybe this time it'll take."

For a moment the room was quiet. Then Willow's phone rang, set to some sort of dissonantly cheery jingle that vaguely reminded Buffy of something she'd heard before.

"Excuse me a moment," Willow muttered, standing and going to the door. "Hello?… Yes, it's me." The door shut with a small *click*.

"So-" Marlowe began after a pause, "what happens now?"

"You;ll stay here until she says you can go," Elsa replied.

"Which'll be never," Buffy sighed.

"Oh, no, she'll let you go," Elsa shook her head. "She just wants to be on level ground first- she wants it to be fair."

"She outmatches me and Marlowe combined," Buffy said. "How is that _fair?"_

"You underestimate your strength," Elsa responded. "Besides, this isn't about just _beating_ you. It's sort of like a game for her- she likes to make the people dance before she puts them out of their misery, but she still needs to start it up. Ergo, until she says, you're not going anywhere."

"What if I… _disagree?" _Buffy replied.

Elsa looked at her palm, conjuring a tiny flurry in her hand. "I wouldn't try that if I were you," she said. "You might get _cold feet."_

Suddenly there was a loud _BANG _outside the door. Everybody started a little, and they began to hear shouting. Willow, specifically.

_"You have no right to do that!" _they heard. "_We had a DEAL! I get you what you want, I get what I want in return! A DEAL!… If you back out on me now, I'll see to it that your stuffed head goes on my MANTLE. You don't simply "end the deal"! No, I SAY WHEN IT'S OVER, NOT YOU!… You have ten minutes to rethink this. Think very hard, and if you value your life, you'll uphold your end."_

* * *

There was that migraine again.

Willow paced on the opposite side of the door, muttering curses unfit for the writer to disclose in full. The narrator has taken the liberty of changing the words to avoid getting into moral trouble.

"Backstabbing, conniving, pompous_ ass," _she fumed. "Cut off a deal with me, oh, he has _nerve._ He has a _lotta_ nerve challenging _me._" The door opened, and Elsa stepped out. **_"What?" _**Willow snarled.

"We heard shouting," Elsa said quietly, looking rather terrified.

Willow tried to rein herself in a little. "I am having a _very_ bad day," she replied.

"What's wrong?" Elsa asked.

"That little deal I've been mentioning? Well, the other guy thought he could call it off. _Not gonna happen,"_ Willow answered.

"Why would he do that?" Elsa inquired.

"Because a-_pparent-_ly," Willow said, "we aren't getting his supplies fast enough. He doesn't know how good he's getting it already, an order his size normally takes two _months_ and I'm getting them for him in two _weeks. _He should be _thanking_ me. Besides- his end involves something I _really _need- it's why he's getting rush delivery."

"What's that?" Elsa asked.

"Our transfer," Willow revealed.

"Oh…" Elsa realized.

"I'm not gonna lose him," Willow swore. "Not a chance."

"Is he good?" Elsa asked.

"Better," Willow grinned. "He's got a PhD."

"In what?" asked Elsa.

* * *

_"Now the nightmare's reeeeeal-_

_Now Doc-tor Horr-i-ble is heeeeere-_

_To make you quake with feeeeear-_

_To make the whole world kneeeeel…_

_And I won't feeeeeeeeel_

_A thing."_

**_End Episode One._**

* * *

**Two week break! Sorry/not-sorry to leave you with a cliffhanger, but I really need to get another episode scripted so that I can feel secure knowing there's stuff waiting in the wings. And now... Oh-hoho... Now everything comes together... and then the ****_real_**** fun starts. **

**_Sweet dreams._**

**-Horrible's Igor**


	8. In Horribleness

**"Do you understand? I don't hate her… I hate what she's ****_become_****…"**

One of the most necessary abilities any planner needs is the ability to improvise in the event things go off-track. It is imperative so they can maintain control of the situation, to ensure that the entire scheme doesn't come shattering down. In essence, a planner has to be able to work around entropy. Right now, Willow did not feel like the odds were in her favor.

All was quiet on the home front, but alarms were sounding loudly in her mind, blending into one futile scream of panic and anger. _How? _How could this have gone so horribly wrong? Half an hour ago, things were right on track, not a detail out of place. Now it was all holding together by a thread, and soon it would all crumble. This was, to be honest, not good.

She was in the CRoE again with Elsa, minutes after another phone call. Thankfully, she'd gotten her second chance from Bad Horse, but it was so time-constrained it felt like a fool's errand. Unfortunately, she knew exactly why he'd given her so little to work with: he knew she would win otherwise. Friday afternoon, no problem for her. He would have to give up his most promising member to the woman who would just as likely backstab him as help him. Understandable, she supposed, but for god's sake, she wasn't going to _do _anything to the guy! Bad Horse's _hamartia_ was his paranoia, and it was going to kill him one day for _no reason_. Willow _didn't care _about him. As long as he didn't directly sabotage something, he had no reason to be so afraid!

She sighed, hands pressed to her temples as she tried to find a way to still win. "It's approximately 11:30 on Monday night…" she mused, "so that leaves me a little over 36 hours to get everything done."

"You- you talked to him again?" asked Elsa, sounding a little nervous.

"Yeah-" Willow nodded, "managed to talk him down, but he's giving us until Wednesday noon, and that's gonna make this almost too hard."

"What does he want?" Elsa asked.

"He wants an access-all-areas card to the Pentagon," Willow began, "basically the defense center of the country- three million dollars _cash,_ and 20 kilograms of wonderflonium."

_"Wonderflonium?" _Elsa repeated, eyebrows drawn together in pure confusion.

"It's a new-ish element," Willow 'explained'. "No idea what it does, personally, but it's supposedly volatile."

Now Elsa's frown became of the suspicious variety. "And you're trusting them with it?"

"It's a deal for a reason," Willow sighed. "I have to provide something."

"Do you know _why_ they want it?" Elsa pressed.

"No- but it'll probably end in something blowing up," Willow replied unconcernedly.

"Do they have any sort of _reason _to?" Elsa asked.

"I dunno, but they do seem to be very nonchalant about it," Willow admitted. "I would say they do it for fun."

Elsa's eyes widened with shock, eyebrows arching high. "For _fun?"_

"Just an educated guess," Willow said.

"I can get doing something like that for some sort of _statement_ or as _vengeance-" _Elsa began, "but for _fun?!"_

"Some people are a different flavor of evil than others," Willow shrugged.

"They sound unstable, Willow!" Elsa exclaimed.

"Hey, they've got someone I want," Willow reminded her firmly, "and I can't have him without giving them something back. Besides, they're not _totally_ off the deep end. They're not gonna just let the world burn. They want it to stick around."

"I still feel uneasy about it," Elsa replied, shaking her head slightly.

"I know how you feel," Willow sighed.

"…So do you think we can do it?" Elsa asked.

"I _think_ we can-" Willow allowed, "but it'll be hard to say the least."

"Well- what's the biggest problem?" Elsa asked.

"The wonderflonium," Willow answered. "Ever since something in '08, the stuff has gotten _really_ hard to come by legally."

"Why the distinction?" Elsa inquired, eyebrows knit together.

"I don't want to draw attention to this facility's… moral_ standing…"_ Willow replied carefully, "so I try to do everything by the book if I can. However, some things must be done that cross the line no matter how you do it."

"Could we steal it?" Elsa tried.

"It would be tough," Willow sighed. "It would be easier, of course, if I had _time._"

"Is there anything we can do to speed it up?" Elsa hedged.

Willow thought a moment. "Well… there is _one_ thing. I could set the facility to DEFCON 1. State of emergency. Everyone who can work on this would be sent to do so from every angle. Full-on charging in."

"Should we do that?" Elsa asked, uncertain.

Willow tried to think of any other options, but in the end she had nothing else. "Seems it's the last resort," she admitted, calling security. _Ring… ring… *click* _"Security- it's me. Due to a little _disagreement_ regarding the deal, we need to go DEFCON 1 _now._ Get everyone you can _on this. _Thank you." As she hung up, she felt a particularly sharp spike of pain in her forehead, reminding her that to top it all off the worst migraine she'd ever had was back again.

"Do you need to lie down?" Elsa asked suddenly.

Willow looked at her in confusion. "Did I say that out loud?" she asked.

"Yeah…" Elsa admitted uncomfortably.

"No, no…" Willow shook her head, "I just need more _time… _It'll go away when we're done, but it would be so much easier to do this if we just had _time…"_

"We can find a way," Elsa reassured her tentatively. "We can find a way to get enough time…"

* * *

"With my Freeze Ray… I will stop-"

* * *

It's interesting to think about just how much can happen in six years, yet how much stays the same.

Six years and eight weeks ago, Doctor Horrible had been almost a fantasy to him- a character he'd played to express his anger and diabolical ideas. Though he wanted it very much, he'd been slow to realize his dream could come true. When Captain Hammer had come into the picture he'd painted of his relationship with Penny, though, it had clicked for him just exactly how he could kill two birds with one stone, and funnily enough, it was to kill! Better yet, it had _worked!_ He'd gotten into the E.L.E. without a hitch that day! He finally served alongside the legends he'd grown up hearing about in his teens: Dead Bowie, Professor Normal, Fake Thomas Jefferson- and of course, Bad Horse, the Thoroughbred of Sin, whose terrible death whinny struck fear into the hearts of his foes. It was everything he'd ever- everything he'd ever…

But one thing would always remain the same: his blog. The blog would never die.

He pressed _Record,_ his face brightening up as the clock started ticking. _00:01… 00:02… _

"Day two-thousand-two-hundred-forty-five since City Hall…" he began, as per usual. Counting the days was important to him. It was a great way to track just how long he'd been a _real_ supervillain, something every good baddie should know. "We are approaching the 2250th day since my victory, which is the _1000th_ day in base 15- a _milestone_ for Doctor Horrible," he grinned, arching his eyebrows. "It's strange to think- a little over 6 years ago, I achieved something amazing: I _defeated_ my nemesis. Captain Hammer, as we know, is no more- helpless against my might."

He tried to think of a way to continue down that line, but nothing came to mind. He searched for a relevant topic.

"…You may have _also _heard on the national news recently of my famously successful attack last week of the NSA- we'll see how well they can document our every move with their servers down. Soon my friends, the E.L.E. will become too powerful to be defeated," he raised his fist in the air triumphantly, "and we shall rule the United States of America once and for all!" He was silent a moment, suddenly painfully aware of how hammy he'd just sounded. "I suppose…" he began, dropping his fist, "…e-mails, then!" He picked up the small stack of emails he'd printed that morning, shuffling through them. "We have one from D1vergent, reading: 'Doctor- You've become very successful in your villain career- I used to watch your blog way back in '06 when you were just starting out and I applaud your determination.'- Thank you, D1vergent- "Now that you're 6 years in, what's your next big maneuver? Do you think you might look for a promotion of some sort?'" He thought about it for a moment, then answered, "I haven't given the idea much thought- I've found that where I am, I can enact the majority of what I desire- but there is a good idea there." He flipped through the stack again. "Another from WolfranBeta: 'Out of curiosity, do you still have your Freeze Ray 1.0? How is the 3.0 coming along?' _Yes, _I do-" he lifted the Freeze Ray from its stand, proudly posing with it, "right here." His face fell slightly as he looked at it, faint flashes of memory trying to come to the surface, but he couldn't quite remember them anymore- all he knew was that they made him more depressed than anything he'd ever experienced before. "It hasn't- seen any action since '08…" he continued, his voice quieter, "I thought I would keep it, like, uh, mint condition, as a sort of… tribute to- to my first- breakthrough…" Why had that been so hard for him to say? It was true. Best moment of his life. Did it have to do with those flashes? It might explain why it felt so hazy despite its importance. "3.0 is coming along well," he restarted, changing the subject. "I still need some supplies, though, but the E.L.E. Is hard at work with that. Once I have everything, the Freeze Ray 3.0 will be ready for testing, so- fingers crossed." He looked through the pile again. "And one from- _whoa-_ one from Thoreau0sin: 'They're on their way.' Uh oh…"

Suddenly, three cowboys popped up behind his chair.

"Bad Horse, Bad Horse!  
Bad Horse, Bad Horse!  
He has been watching your blog  
And likes what you're doing there  
He's got breaking news for you  
He'd like to share!  
So please listen a moment,  
Just sit tight right up there!  
And buckle up, listen close  
Because this news is worse than most-

"Bad Horse, Bad Horse!  
Bad Horse, he's bad!  
He had made a new agreement  
To get the stuff we need  
But the price he was given  
Is quite high indeed!  
If we get it all by Wednesday  
Then you will have to leave…  
We'll go to town, slow 'em down,  
'It's hi-ho silver!' Signed, Bad Horse!"

And they were gone.

"…W-… I-… Tha-… Wow…" he eventually decided. "…So, to answer your question, D1vergent… Yes… Other opportunities have presented themselves."

* * *

**Oh dang.**

**Sorry to start off with such a short chapter, but to be honest, I literally just finished this minutes before posting it. I'm missing the deadline of Friday by about 10 minutes! Rrgh.**

**Next chapter will be longer, I swear.**

**Interesting blog, though, no? Good way to start the new episode! Stay tuned for more…**

**-Horrible's Igor**


	9. Hello, Doctor

**_"The Enrichment Center promises to always provide a safe testing environment. In dangerous testing environments, the Enrichment Center promises to always provide useful advice."_**

* * *

When Elsa had first come to the facility, it had seemed populated with people, moving and working almost in synchronization throughout the structure. No-one seemed out of place or idle, all doing something in the interest of… whatever it was they were tasked with doing. Now, though, the halls were dead silent, not a soul stirring the cool air. It was unnerving, seeing rooms meant to be filled empty, and near-silence in place of human activity. Adding onto that, she could still hear that _hum_ of technology, a hum that she heard everywhere she went, that eclectic song of fans cooling computers and parts moving machinery beneath the cold stone floors and recessed lighting buzzing in the smooth black walls- it only intensified her unease. Silence was something that made you tense- the sounds of foreign instruments was something that made you scared.

So she sought refuge with Willow, who she found lying down in her bedroom, near the top of the tallest tower, with a bag of ice on her forehead.

"Can I come in?" Elsa asked tentatively, head poking out from behind the door.

"Sure," Willow allowed, without sparing her a glance.

"Thanks," Elsa smiled, gently shutting the door. "I don't mean to bother you.. it's just a little- strange to see the place empty but still so…"

"Teeming?"

"Something to that effect," she nodded.

"Lemme guess- the noise is putting you on edge," Willow postulated.

"Yes," Elsa admitted quietly. "Not used to it."

"It'll sorta fade with time," Willow assured her. "Once you're around it long enough it just becomes a part of the cacophony."

"Mmm," Elsa responded noncommittally. "How are you feeling?"

"To be honest, not so great," Willow admitted. "Thankfully, the ice is helping."

"That's good," Elsa replied.

A short pause followed.

"…So what happens now?" Elsa asked.

"We wait," Willow answered simply.

"How long?"

"Until we hear something- such is DEFCON 1."

"What exactly does that mean- DEFCON 1?" Elsa asked, very confused.

"It means we're as off the map as possible and we're focusing on vital tasks only- in this case, the deal," Willow explained. "It also usually institutes our incognito protocol, but that was already in place because of the fragility of the plan with you two joining. I can't risk anything happening, so I'm playing it incredibly safe right now."

"Why would you go incognito if you need these supplies so badly?" Elsa asked.

"Because I also have to be careful," Willow sighed. "I could get caught, and then everything would come crashing down around our ears."

"If being incognito means you're doing _everything_ legally, then how are you going to get the wonderflonium?" Elsa pointed out. "I doubt they're going to just sell it."

"I have some guys…" Willow mused. "They're quite persuasive, but they're not always able to sway favor. If all else fails I'll get it myself, but then I'm likely going to be ambushed."

"Maybe I could go with you," Elsa offered.

"We'll see," Willow responded. "If I can't get the wonderflonium by midnight tomorrow, then we'll do it, but I want you to wait outside the building for me while I grab it- I don't want to worry about you getting hurt as well as me, and plus, there'll likely be some fighting involved that you'll also have to deal with."

"I can handle it," Elsa replied firmly.

"I know," Willow nodded, "I just want to make sure that everyone gets out in one piece. You're not much help when you're dead."

"No. I guess not," Elsa agreed sadly.

The clock struck midnight, chiming quietly from a far corner. Elsa sighed, standing up. "My turn to keep watch," she huffed.

"Send me a postcard," Willow smirked.

"Very funny," Elsa chuckled as she left the room.

* * *

"So let me get this straight-" Doc began, "Bad Horse signed an agreement with _another organization _to get stuff for the next attack, and he has to pay for it with _me? _Why wasn't I notified first?… No, Professor Normal, I'm not _questioning his authority,_ I'm just a little angry that I wasn't told until just now!… Well, who are the people he's working with, anyway? Do you know?… No?… How about Dead Bowie?… Okay then, maybe I'll ask him… Yeah, thanks."

With that he hung up, immediately starting to fume angrily to himself, pacing the length of the laboratory. "What the hell? I'm being _auctioned off _to some place I've never heard of, given no warning, and all just for some _supplies? Man! _Bad Horse better really need those things- but at least he's still trying to stall them- still worth _something _to him, then… Shoot- and I thought that this was it… Oh well- finish the Freeze Ray, that's what matters right now. Worry about staying tomorrow."

So he did. He worked for a solid four hours on the Freeze Ray 3.0, letting his hands work while his mind was running a mile a minute. Who _were _these people? Obviously they were no pushovers, because it seemed that they were doing serious business with the League, and few had the courage to approach Bad Horse. But then why hadn't he heard of them before? Normally everybody was kept up-to-date on any transactions or bargains members made to forward the cause, so why the silence on Bad Horse's part?

Oh- probably the minor detail of the fact that _he _was the bargain.

That would mean if things _did_ go through, he would have to move. Among other things, this could upset the daily blogging schedule. It wouldn't be too great for PR to vanish with no explanation for… however long this would take. So he went over to the computer, quickly turning on the webcam and began to record.

"This is an emergency broadcast, everyone," he declared in a serious tone. "Due to events beyond my control, I will most likely be offline for the next couple days or so. New circumstances have arisen regarding my position in the Evil League of Evil, and we are all working as hard as we can to deal with them. So until such time as this little… thing… works out, the blog is hereby _on hold._ I will return as soon as I can. But for now… _au revoir, mes amis."_

* * *

The hour approached 5 A.M., and inside the heroes' cell, spirits were at an all-time low. The Queen kept watch, sitting pensively in her chair as she toyed with a paper clip, while Marlowe fiddled absent-mindedly with the buttons on the cuffs of his jacket and Buffy idly turned a small rock in her hand.

"Where do you think Olaf is?" asked Buffy quietly, looking to Marlowe and Elsa with the ghost of a sad confusion in her eyes.

"Wherever it is, it has to be better than here," the Queen replied bitterly. "It'll do him well to stay away from us."

"His innocence is shattered enough already," Marlowe responded. "It wouldn't be able to affect him any worse now."

A cold smirk tugged at the sorceress' lips. "Not true- he's never seen me kill someone."

"You've never killed, though," Buffy pointed out.

"It'll happen one day- it's inevitable," the cryomancer answered.

"It doesn't have to be," Buffy pressed. "You're not inherently bad."

"I've made my choice," the Queen replied firmly. "I'm adamant."

For a time the silence returned. The room felt chilly, but in reality it was 23°C, like always. If it had been the Snow Queen, there would have been at the very least little wisps of cold water vapor curling out from her hands, but her powers were under control. No, this was a chill that was originating from within themselves, akin to the frigid aura of dementors. Complex thoughts and emotions faded into vague intentions, directions like _sad_ and _cold_ and _lonely-_ the nether-space of the conscious mind. If they were to remain undisturbed for half an hour or so, it's possible they would've fallen asleep.

The door opened, a whisper of air hushing past as it was displaced. Willow stepped in, her footsteps soft enough to preserve the permeating quiet. Her scowl, however, was pronounced enough to bring Elsa back to reality.

"What is it?" she asked softly.

"I need you to do something for me," Willow whispered into her ear. "A little road trip."

"Road trip?" Elsa repeated quietly, confused.

"Come with me. I'll explain on the way out," Willow replied, pulling at Elsa's hand lightly. Elsa acquiesced and stood, following the woman apprehensively to the big double doors.

The first thing that she noticed was the smell of something burning a little ways off. A faint smoke seemed to be blowing in from the south, making her eyes burn slightly. She was slightly happy to see that Willow was also curling her lip in distaste at the smell.

"Where am I going?" Elsa asked.

"I need you to go to the E.L.E.'s headquarters for me," Willow answered, looking like she was resisting the urge to cough. "You need to talk to Bad Horse about negotiating for a more reasonable deadline so that we're not running such a high risk. If you can, see if you can corner our transfer too."

"Y-you're sure you want me to do this?" Elsa stuttered, uneasy.

"Hey, I have faith in you," Willow responded soothingly, taking the girl's hand. "And you can always just call if something goes wrong. There's nothing that we can't work out."

"I'm sorry," Elsa apologized. "I'm not good with talking to people. It seems to always end badly."

"You'll be okay, Elsa," Willow replied, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "Just relax, and you'll be fine."

"Right," Elsa nodded anxiously. "Relax."

"Don't worry," Willow smiled, letting go of Elsa's hand and gesturing towards the car. "Good luck."

"I'll definitely need it," Elsa chuckled nervously, and shut the door.

As soon as the car was out of her sight, Willow burst into a coughing fit, rushing to the door.

* * *

"Come on…" Horrible muttered, delicately turning the knob on the wonderflonium intake valve as he held the Freeze Ray 3.0 up to the pipe. "Just a tiny bit more and we can move on…"

A knock came at the doorway of the laboratory suddenly, making him jump. He nearly made the fatal error of dropping the Freeze Ray, which would've meant that it would've bounced on the floor- and he was _not_ about to have that happen.

"You _idiot!" _he exclaimed, whirling around to face the door, where he saw Dead Bowie standing, along with someone he'd never seen before. "You almost made me drop the Freeze Ray!"

"But I understand it is not yet operational," Dead Bowie replied, putting on his "serious" voice.

"It's got wonderflonium in it," Horrible replied angrily. "Wouldn't want it to, say, _bounce,_ would we?"

"My apologies," Dead Bowie responded stiffly. "...You have a visitor."

"Who?" Horrible asked shortly.

"A representative of our trade partner," Dead Bowie revealed, gesturing towards the woman he'd never seen before. "She wishes to speak with you."

Horrible raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You mean the guys who're bargaining for me?"

"Yeah," Dead Bowie nodded.

"Okay…" Horrible replied, uncertain of what to think. "Could you leave alone for a moment?"

"Very well," Dead Bowie allowed, quietly leaving.

Horrible looked at the woman curiously. She was wearing a black dress made out of some sort of reflective fabric, with an off-the-shoulder neckline and floor-length skirt with a slit reaching just above her right knee. When he saw her face and hair, though, it suddenly clicked. This was _Queen Elsa._

_What. The. Heck._

He had never been so happy to have his goggles over his eyes in all his life. He was certain that if he hadn't, he would look much less unperturbed than he wanted.

"So…" he began, trying to look at things objectively, "you're one of the people who's trying to pull me out of the E.L.E." He turned around, getting back to work on the Freeze Ray. _Yes, she is. Forget the fact she doesn't exist, focus on the fact that she's working for _**_them_**_._ "How's that going for you?"

"We're- we're working hard to get Bad Horse what he wants," Queen Elsa stuttered, trying to sound regally aloof despite her obvious anxiety. "I didn't have anything to do with the terms, but I am invested in this."

"That's nice…" he replied, trying to sound nasty "So- whose brilliant idea was it? Take Doc away from his only real goal."

"It wasn't mine…" Elsa replied. "She's the head of our company… I don't know exactly why, but she's interested in you."

Horrible let out a harsh laugh. "So she goes up to Bad Horse and says 'Hey, I give you some supplies for _one_ attack and you give me one of your _main men_, sound good?' Ha! That's a laugh."

"Look, she wanted me to talk to you about it," Elsa responded, a little irritated. "She knows you haven't heard much."

Horrible stopped cold. "Are you _serious?" _he growled quietly. "Haven't heard _much?" _He turned around slowly, moving towards the woman menacingly. "I just got a call from Bad Horse _this morning_ telling me that if we get our stuff on time, _I'm leaving._ I ask Professor Normal about it- he knows _nothing._ Dead Bowie: _Nothing. _Bad Horse: _Won't say a damn thing." _He was toe-to-toe with the sorceress now, towering over her by a head. "Yeah- _I haven't heard much."_

He felt a surge of malicious delight as he stared her down, her eyes ever so slightly widened with fright and her hands shaking violently. At least he was able to make his feelings clear.

"O-obviously they didn't want that," she managed to get out. "The original d-deadline was Friday."

"Oh?" Horrible replied.

"She really needs you, though," she continued, taking a small step back. "She's been trying for months now."

"I'm not interested," he hissed.

"She won't take no for an answer," Elsa shook her head. "She'll do anything."

_"I refuse,"_ he responded firmly.

"Hey, do you know _why_ Bad Horse changed the deadline?" Elsa asked suddenly. "It's because he's _afraid._ Bad Horse _fears _this woman. He's scared enough that he's deliberately sabotaging the deal so that he won't lose you, because he knows what she could do with you at her side!"

"At her _side,_ too?" Horrible repeated incredulously. "This just gets better and better."

"What I'm trying to say is, this isn't 'it'," Elsa replied. "The E.L.E. is certainly evil, but _she_ is on a much higher level than they could ever be- and she wants _you._ She _knows_ you're better than this."

"Well, you can tell her I'm happy just where I am," Horrible snarled, going back to the Freeze Ray. "I paid a lot to get here- I'm not gonna pay any more for some _promotion._ I've spent literal _decades_ fighting for this- I'm not tossing it away because someone _'eviler'_ is calling for me."

"…I see," Elsa eventually replied, her voice quiet. "…If it makes any difference, she likes your blog."

He paused a moment, thrown off by the comment. "Why would she watch my blog?"

"I don't know," Elsa admitted. "…Maybe it's because you can see a little bit of the man behind the goggles there- a little humanity for her to get in touch with when she needs it."

The man was quiet for a long time, then replied somberly, "I think whatever humanity I had died a long time ago."

They stayed still for a little while, the silence stretching. Finally, Elsa said nervously, "I'll go."

"Sounds good," Doc replied quietly.

"But she won't stop trying, you know," she reminded him.

"And I won't go down without a fight," he affirmed.

"I'll tell her that," Elsa smiled sadly, and closed the door behind her with a gentle *click*.

And he was alone once more.

* * *

**_"And I won't feel / a thing…"_**


	10. A Study in Blue

**Let's you and I try something new. 10th Chapter Special.**

**Every time you see a reference to Frozen, the Sing-Along Blog, or BtVS, have a chocolate or sweet of your choice.**

**Every time you see a reference to Portal, have two.**

**And if you see any other references, give one to the mysterious hooded figures in the dog park. Then have another for yourself.**

* * *

4:22 P.M. Tuesday, September 9th.

Willow couldn't decide if things were slogging by or blazing past. On the one hand, it was Tuesday afternoon. On the other, it was _Tuesday afternoon._ She wasn't sure whether to be happy or worried.

With this dilemma facing her, yet another sat before her on the table: an empty tumbler and a bottle of scotch. To drink or not to drink, that was the question. Would it be a good calming of the nerves, or a horrendous lapse in focus? Would she feel better or worse when it was all said and done?

The door opened with a slight creak. Boss came in, holding his manila folder in his hand. He carried that thing everywhere. Was there something actually in it, or was it empty? She could never tell.

Boss stole a glance at the scotch. "That bad, huh?"  
"You have no idea, Boss," Willow sighed, "no idea."

"Sorry to hear things aren't goin' too hot with the League," Boss said sympathetically. "What's the issue with them?"

"Bad Horse doesn't want to lose Doctor Horrible," Willow replied dully. "He's afraid I'll try to attack them or something- like I'd need to."

'Do we have a Plan B in case?" Boss asked.

"I'm thinking the best thing we could do is just go up to him and try to calm him down," Willow responded, "reassure him that I'm not gonna take over the League or anything like that- but it's Plan B for a reason: it probably wouldn't work. And that's why there's the scotch," she finished, gesturing towards the bottle.

Boss was silent.

"…Oh, what the hell," Willow finally huffed, grabbing the bottle and popping open the top. "You want some?"

"No," Boss shook his head. "I'm trying to stay abstinent."

"Good on you," Willow replied, and took a long sip of the scotch. "Well- things could be worse… I could have no scotch."

"That's always true," Boss smiled.

"And it'll help me calm my nerves," she continued. "Can't afford to stress too much. You never know when you might need that stress."

* * *

"I wish I had a bigger rock," Buffy complained quietly as she turned a rock in her hand. "A marble… a bouncy ball… _something."_

"This is getting incredibly dull," Marlowe huffed, turning to the guard of their cell, who was wearing a mask. To prevent them from identifying them? "Could we at least have something to pass the time?"

"Can't do that," the guard shook their head unapologetically. "Boss' orders."

"Seriously?" Buffy asked. "C'mon, what's wrong with giving us a little something to entertain ourselves. She's gonna let us go anyway- what's the harm in keeping us occupied?"  
"This isn't a vacation," the guard sneered. "You don't get that sort of stuff when you're a prisoner."

"But- but-" Buffy protested.

"Tell you what," Marlowe piped up, cutting Buffy off. "You get us something- a book, say- and we'll agree with her to stay out of this for another week after we leave."

"You're funny," the guard chuckled. "Not happening."

"Two weeks," Marlowe pressed.

"No," the guard refused.

"One month," Marlowe tried.

The guard began to waver. "I highly doubt she'd agree."

_"Two_ months," Marlowe offered.

The guard was silent a moment. "Okay- I'll call her, see what she says- and her word is _final."_

Buffy and Marlowe sat silently while the guard called her.

* * *

Willow's phone rang suddenly. She looked at it, to see it was Johnny calling. Wasn't he on guard duty? She picked up. "Johnny?"

"Hey Chief," Johnny replied. "Our friends here have a proposal for you."

"Oh really?" Willow responded, intrigued.

"Yeah- they're negotiating for a book to read in exchange for two _months _of neutrality once they're out."

_"Really?" _she laughed.

"Yeah, I'm serious. They're crazy, I'm tellin' ya."

"Two months…" she mused. "…Sure, why not?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I am," she nodded.

"Certain? I mean- you're not usually this… _open_ _to suggestion,_ especially from _prisoners."_

"What are they gonna do, learn a spell and blast their way out like in Frozen?" Willow laughed. "Oh god, that's even funnier now…"

"You sure you're okay?" Johnny asked as politely as he could.

"I'm fine, Johnny," she said firmly. "Go ahead, give them their book."

"Okay, then," Johnny sighed, hanging up."

She put down the phone, pouring herself another glass. "Science isn't about why, it's about _why not,"_ she muttered to herself. "'Why is so much of our science dangerous? Why don't you marry safe science if you love it so much!'" She laughed. "Okay, one more glass, and that's it."

A knock came at the door. "What's up?" Willow called out.

"Hi," Elsa answered, opening the door quietly. "How are you?"

"Been better, been worse," Willow shrugged. "How'd it go in L.A.?"

"About as well as we could expect, really," Elsa sighed, sitting down next to Willow. "Is that scotch?"

"Want some?" Willow asked. "Wait, don't answer that." She thought hard for a moment. "You're 21, right?"

"J-just turned 22 in July," Elsa replied, caught off-guard.

"Really?" Willow raised an eyebrow. "When's your birthday?"

"The 21st," Elsa responded with a small smile.

"Well, happy belated birthday," Willow raised her glass in a toast. "So do you want some? You don't have to if you don't want any."

Elsa thought about it a moment. "Just one," she eventually decided. "There's glasses in the cabinet, right?"

"You are correct," Willow nodded.

Elsa grabbed a tumbler from the small cabinet against the wall, sitting back down and pouring herself a glass. When she took a sip, Willow saw her gag slightly, but the woman managed to swallow it.

"It's rather strong," Elsa said, her voice a little hoarse.

"Was that your first alcoholic beverage?" Willow asked curiously.

"No- I had some wine at my coronation," Elsa replied, "but that wasn't quite as concentrated as this."

"Was it red wine?"

"Yes," Elsa chuckled softly, "though I'm sure the irony would've been much greater if it was _white_ wine that I accidentally froze when I ran away."

"What is the freezing point of wine?" Willow wondered aloud.

"Around -6° Celsius, but it's slushy for a while before freezing fully," Elsa answered automatically.

Willow gave her a surprised look.

"I- I sort of became obsessed with finding freezing points as a child," Elsa explained, embarrassed. "I wanted to see how cold I could let myself get before something would freeze in my hand. So I would be able to know how long I could appear normal."

"Oh," Willow said dumbly. "…I suppose that's natural."

Elsa nodded, taking another sip. This one went down more smoothly. "It's yet another drawback to having powers: it's incredibly easy to wear your emotions on your sleeve, because everyone can tell how I'm feeling by what ice I'm making."

"That is an issue," Willow agreed quietly. "But at least you could make millions off of snow cones."

They laughed, perhaps slightly more than the joke warranted.

* * *

True to her word, Elsa only had one glass of scotch. Willow had also made sure to have the woman lock away the bottle after they had both finished their drinks.

That did not mean they weren't both rather tipsy. Remember, Elsa was just starting to recover from three _weeks_ of starvation, and was still dangerously thin- one glass was _plenty_. Meanwhile, Willow had had… _more._

They were on the verge of having a quick 20-minute nap when suddenly, the door burst open, and Boss rushed in.

"Miss Rosenberg, we've got a problem," he announced anxiously.

"What is it?" Willow asked.

"The prisoners- the Slayer and the Professor- they escaped," Boss revealed.

_"What?" _Elsa and Willow exclaimed in unison. _"How?"_

"Picked the lock with a paper clip," Boss huffed. "The book they got was _unbound."_

"But- but what about the guards?" Willow asked. "They should've been more than able to stop them!"

"You instituted DEFCON 1, ma'am, remember?" Boss reminded her. "Everyone except us and my boys are out getting everything for the deal."

_"Oh…"_ Suddenly Willow was not at all relaxed. "Well- um- uh, get the boys, a-and we'll all go out looking for them."

"Roger that," Boss nodded, saluting as he exited.

For a moment the Queen and the witch sat in shocked silence, looking at each other with wide eyes. Both of them felt like their stomachs had dropped a full foot down.

"I- I should- g- go," Elsa said after a moment.

"Yeah…" Willow nodded weakly. "Go. I'll be down in a minute."

And Elsa did.

Willow slowly turned her head, staring at her empty glass for a minute. A tiny smile tugged at her lips, and she chuckled softly-

and crushed the glass in her hand.

She continued to laugh quietly, squeezing her fist tighter, and felt the broken glass pierce the delicate skin of her palm with a hot flash of pain, deep-red blood trickling down the heel of her hand and dripping down from her wrist.

"DEFCON One…" she muttered darkly, still laughing, "DEFCON _fucking_ One…"

* * *

"Rrrgh!"

Horrible pounded his fist on the table angrily. He couldn't concentrate at _all._ That little "talk" with _her_ had thrown him off his game completely, refusing to let him form any other strings of thought. What was _up _with that? _Queen Elsa of Arendelle?_ A _fictional character?_ How does that even work?!

And holy hell, what was _up_ with her _dress?_

This was nuts. He'd seen Frozen a million times, sure. Knew Elsa's lines by heart, knew the songs- but it wasn't _real._ Elsa wasn't a real _person. _So how in the name of all that was rational and proven was she able to _talk_ to him? She'd looked him _in the eyes._ He was, suffice it to say, a bit surprised.

That said, there was still more to this- something more Uncanny Valley. He knew a little something about the way Elsa looked. First of all- that dress was _blue. _Why was it _black_ all of a sudden? And how did it _get_ black? Ice does _not _dye that smoothly.

Okay, something was up. He'd look into it.

Second- didn't she look… _fuller_… in the film? Well- not, like, _fuller_, but more full_,_ y'know?

Research time.

One viewing of Frozen later, he knew he was right. Compared to his memory, there was, he estimated, a difference of more than ten pounds and a few inches measurements-wise between Frozen-Elsa and Not-Supposed-to-be-Real-Elsa, as well as her wardrobe change. Her hair was still the same, though, and even though she'd appeared half-starved, she was still the Snow Queen.

It only took a short moment for him to make the next leap: Elsa had said she was working with the people trying to get him- obviously baddies.

That explained the dress, then. Oy vey.

There were still questions he had, and only Elsa could provide their answers. As much as it made his lip curl to think about it, he hoped that he would have the opportunity to meet her again, and perhaps find out what the _hell_ she was doing here.

* * *

The hour approached 3 A.M. Thanks to the magic of mass transportation, Buffy and Marlowe had managed to make it back to Sunnydale in under 12 hours, leaving them a few hours to pull together a plan while they did pest control.

"So-" Buffy began as the latest recipient of a stake to the heart crumbled into dust, "how are we gonna figure this one out?"

"Well, it would be a good idea to see if we could perhaps find somebody who knows what Willow's plans are," Marlowe huffed. "We could attempt to thwart her while she's weak."

Buffy nodded in agreement. "Good idea. Maybe we can try some old haunts and find somebody to pump for information."

"And then we see if we can put a stop to… whatever it is she's doing," Marlowe finished lamely.

"Okay. Now- how do we find someone who would know what's happening?" Buffy asked.

"Um… I do not know," Marlowe admitted.

"Demon bar?" Buffy suggested.

"I doubt they'd travel this far for a drink," Marlowe reminded her.

"Word travels quick in the underworld," Buffy countered. "Even if there isn't someone who's directly connected, someone knows down there."

"That is true," Marlowe nodded. "Shall we?"

"Hey, I'm armed and always dangerous," Buffy grinned.

"Well then- my first trip to a demon bar," Marlowe smirked.

"You slay vampires but you've never been to a demon bar?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow incredulously.

"I slay as a means of population control- I don't like interacting with demons," Marlowe explained.

"Probably a good idea," Buffy chuckled. _"My_ history with demons is ambiguous at best."

"I think that's better than the rest," Marlowe laughed.

* * *

The Tesla shot down Interstate-5 South to L.A., pushing 80 miles an hour. Elsa sat alone in the driver's seat as the car drove itself, on the phone with Willow, who was back at the H.Q., experiencing a full-on breakdown.

"I do not know what to do," Willow moaned. "Everything's coming apart and I don't know how to _fix _it. What do I do, Elsa? Help me out here."

"Well- I think the best thing you can do right now is to just take a minute to calm yourself down," Elsa suggested. "You won't do too much good if you can't think straight."

"But I have absolutely _no_ time, Elsa!" Willow exclaimed. "It's 4 A.M., which means I only have _eight_ hours to get everything!"

"That's still eight hours," Elsa reminded her firmly. "A lot happens in eight hours."

"And there's the other fun bit- I don't have the time or resources to find Summers! I can't keep any of it in order!" Willow said with vehement frustration.

"Just _breathe,_ Willow," Elsa ordered. "Take just a _small moment,_ and _breathe."_

Willow took a breath obligingly. "This is a _nightmare. _Doc's a lost cause at this rate."

_"Yes,_ you _will,"_ Elsa rebuffed. "You can do this. What you need to do is to adapt the plan. What can we do to get _everything_ by noon?"

"Well- the quickest thing to do would be for me to go down myself," Willow began, "but I would be noticed, and then get attacked."

"And if I went instead?" Elsa asked.

"You stick out, it'd be just as hard," Willow disagreed.

"Magic?"

"Like sending up a flare: 'I'm doing something here that requires my complete focus! Come kill me!'"

"Forgo incognito and steal it all?"

"Dangerous- my guys are good, but not perfect."

_"Oh!" _Elsa suddenly exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "Bad Horse said to me that he would be willing to help us!"

_"Really?" _Willow asked, surprised.

"Yes! He said either information or reinforcements, either one!" Elsa nodded furiously.

"Did he say how much?" Willow asked.

"No- just that we can only ask once," Elsa replied, a small smile beginning to form.

"Aa, _drat,"_ Willow huffed. "See, he _really_ means he'll help us with _one_ aspect- we still need to get the other thing."

"Wait, don't you mean _two?" _Elsa asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No- we got the access-all-areas card about an hour ago," Willow replied tiredly.

"Okay then- what should we ask for help with?" Elsa continued on.

"Mmm… probably the wonderflonium. Like I said, high security as of late."

"And the money?"

"Well… we couldn't full-on _rob_ it, someone would call 911… A break in would take too long to coordinate… Oh! I know! I'll hack into their computers and siphon some money from a corporation account! Then we send down someone to cash it all in, and there we have it! Does that sound plausible?"

"It sounds good enough to me."

"Okay, we'll do that. I'm gonna have to call Bad Horse. I'll call you back when we're done."

"Okay."

"Just remember- something is likely going to trip us up somewhere down the line- be prepared to improvise."

"I know."

* * *

Demon bars are not all that different from regular bars. Just swap out humans for various otherworldly creatures, add some more questionable drinks to the line-up, and the rest stays the same.

Buffy remembered this place from way back, when the barkeep was Willy the Snitch- he had a reputation for saving his own skin- but he'd skipped town a while ago. Hopefully someone equally knowledgable and cowardly had replaced him.

Without a second glance at any of the patrons assembled, she strode over to the barkeep, who was toweling off the counter, and knocked on the polished wood.

"Hi," the barkeep said without looking up. "What can I get you?"

"I need information," Buffy said. "We need to know what's happening with a certain Willow Rosenberg, who you likely know as _Dark_ Willow."

The barkeep looked up. "No clue who you're talking about."

"I have bribe money, and after that a nice little round of ass-kicking," Buffy threatened. "So, do you know anything about what's she's up to right now?"

"No," he replied curtly.

"You sure about that?" Buffy asked.

"Don't t- Don't know nothin' about that." he stuttered.

Buffy smiled deceptively. "So you _do_ know! What's she doing?"

"No clue," the man lied.

"Bull." Buffy pulled out her bribe money: a $100 bill. The barkeep made a grab for it, but she pulled it just out of reach. _"What is she doing?"_

"Don't know," he shook his head.

"Maybe this'll jog your memory," Buffy said, and socked him in the face. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him right in front of her. "What's she doing?"

_"Je-sus!" _he exclaimed. "How the hell d'you do that?"

"I'm a Slayer," she replied shortly. "Come on- _What. Is. She. Doing."_

"Ow… she's mobilizin' her guys for some big bank heist in the city- got some big deal going down today and she's tryin'a get her end done."

"Which bank?" Buffy pressed.

"Dunno, I swear," he replied, crossing his heart.

"Who's your source? Would _they_ say?" she asked.

"Guy called Mr. William Harris," he sighed. "Blond guy- 'bout 6-foot or so, had on a brownish hoodie, jeans- said he was heading to L.A."

"When was this?" Marlowe asked.

"'Round an hour or two ago," the barkeep estimated. "Don't know anything beyond that."

"Okay." Buffy let go of the man, slapping down the $100 bill, and promptly left, Marlowe at her heels.

* * *

7:30 A.M. Wednesday the 10th.

Doc was happy. The deadline loomed, a mere 4.5 hours remaining for whomever the Snow Queen now stood with to uphold their side. Bad Horse had informed the rest of the League last night that he had allowed this group to ask for one instance of help from the League itself, so he presumed that he would get to see Elsa again very soon. Perhaps he could dig a little deeper and find out exactly what had happened.

In any case, he was happy. He would be able to do a quick blog today before getting to work on the Freeze Ray again. Perhaps he would feel better, and possibly better understand this whole mess if he said it aloud.

"So…" he muttered to himself as he fired up the computer, "what do you have for me today, Elsa?"

The camera turned on, and he pressed 'Record'.

"Day 2246 since City Hall…" he began. "…I don't know exactly what to say. I've been having a rough time, and I'm having difficulty focusing on 3.0… As you all know, my position in the ELE has been compromised by forces beyond my control, and it is possible that I may be _"transferred" _as early as noon today, so I thought I would- make an exception… regarding emergency blog protocol to just- y'know- try to- talk my way through it out loud… Maybe that'll help… I did a little research- into the group that wants to, um, _include_ me in their ranks… It appears that…" He pulled out a print-out of an e-mail they sent him about twelve hours ago- "'We want you because of your admirable determination and creativity in your field. There are few aspiring supervillains who can find the courage to face someone like Captain Hammer their first time around, and I doubt anyone ever made a Freeze Ray that wasn't some sort of cryogenic-based device. I sincerely apologize that this transfer has only just been made known to you, but I feel your true potential can be achieved here. Please think about it. Sincerely, Ms. So-and-So Who-gives-a-Crap.' I mean, _seriously_, who _does_ that? Make it seem like you have a say when you're really just a pawn? Have some _class!_ Don't try to sugarcoat. All it does is make it worse. Anyway… aside from that, they seem pretty legit- they don't do too much stuff, mainly making deals with other people who do evil things- sort of a man-behind-the-man act. Apparently they funded the League so they could orchestrate the economic meltdown in '08- not that they actually made it _happen_, they just- they made bankers go shady, sent Wall Street crashing. Basic corruption stuff, but also expensive. I hear that we had to pay them with a super-decked-out Tesla that had, like, some sort of self-driving AI when Tesla had just started shipping the year before- took us _three years_ to pay them back. Crazy stuff… Bet Mr. Musk made a pretty penny off that… But, a-as shown, it _worked_, so I guess I can count them on the List of Evilest Evildoers, likely around #2 or so, given that they don't seem to do very much hands-on stuff. Hmm… So, I feel like that's about all I have for today's blog. I'll probably come back again next Friday or so, once everything's- y'know, died down. So until then, this has been Doctor Horrible." He flipped up the peace sign. "Peace!... But not- literally… Need to stop doing that."

And he stopped recording.

* * *

**Allow me to take this time to recommend another Frozen fanfiction to you: Trials of Elsa, by spashthebandragon. Fiction T, fear not. Closing in on 300,000 words and currently 67 chapters at the time of publishing this chapter.**

**You will learn to love this human, and you will learn to ****_hate _****this human. ****_Hate _****this human with every fiber of your being, hate every ****_cell_**** comprising them, every ****_inch_**** they stand tall, every ****_follicle_**** of this human's undoubtedly ****_perfect_**** hair. ****_Hate _****this human for the masterpiece they created and dubbed Trials of Elsa. ****_Hate._**

**I've also created a TVTropes page for this story. Perhaps you might hop on over and help me add to the list of tropes there are. Oddly enough, there is already a Heroes and Villains page on TVTropes that is partially based off of Buffy. I suggest you find ****_this_**** one through the Crossover Index.**


	11. Enigmas and Nightmares

**_"We want happy paintings. Happy paintings. If you want sad things, watch the news."_**

* * *

4:15 A.M. Wednesday, September 10th.

Elsa was fast asleep in the driver's seat.

Thank goodness it was self-driving.

Despite having to deal with seemingly endless meetings and paperwork back in Arendelle, Elsa could never pull off an all-nighter. Her absolute record was waking up at 5:30 A.M. with the sunrise one day and falling asleep at 3 A.M. the next day, coming up to 22.5 hours of uninterrupted awake-ness. Today was pushing it, having woken up at 7:45 on Tuesday, bringing her to 20.5 hours- amazing, honestly, given how little energy she was really capable of producing at the moment. The second she'd hung up after Willow called, she closed her eyes and was dead to the world in minutes.

So naturally she was plagued with nightmares.

Every night they were always the same- sometimes it was the whiteout, and Hans' sword was coming down towards her neck; others it was Anna dying in her arms, a thin film of frost covering her while Elsa could only watch in horror, her voice stolen and hands unable to move. The worst one, though, was when she was in her old Palace, and had first created Marshmallow- only this time, instead of him tossing out Anna and Kristoff, he killed them right in front of her, throwing them against the wall with frightening power, their heads making a sickening _crack _against the ice, falling limp as their blood trickled onto the floor with horrible steadiness and their eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

This time, though, it was different.

She was back in the H.Q., and it was nighttime. No moon shone through the windows, and the lights in the walls flickered ominously. Nobody was there, but that selfsame hum she was so unused to was still there, putting her on edge. She walked through a few turns aimlessly, apprehensive as the lights continued to waver. Suddenly a loud _CRASH _sounded from afar, in the direction she was facing. Slowly she turned around, beginning to back away, when she heard a switch being thrown. She looked back fearfully, and after a few moments, she heard music begin to play. It started with a harp, playing some simple arpeggios. In any other setting it might have been calming, but here it was _scary._ Some sort of wind instrument joined in- flute? The two played out a haunting tune, and she began to back away again, holding her hands tightly over her chest. Then, something else began to enter into the music- something she'd never heard before-

And her world erupted into chaos.

Thousands of small, black, rectangular objects with red lights in the center started crawling out from the corridor ahead, screeching with unearthly noises as they bore down on her. They seemed to burrow into the walls and floor slightly, bright lights flashing underneath them as they advanced, and everywhere they went they left the surfaces tessellated hexagons and the lights bright red. Elsa ran, and the abominations gave chase. No matter how fast she ran, they always seemed to be right on her heels, converting the corridors into frightening red-lit halls, creating a nightmarish symphony of unnatural shrieks and beeps, unrelenting, bearing down on her with ferocious determination. The music returned, and she felt another burst of terror as a male voice started singing.

_"Thiiiiiiiiiis waaaaaaaaaaas a triiiiiiiii-uuuuuuumph… I'm ma-king a note heeeere: huge succeeeeeeeeeeeess."_

The voice was getting louder, and the terrifying machines seemed to be closing in on her. She burst into a full-on sprint, trying to escape the things, but to no avail. They continued to close the gap, beginning to eat away the back of her cape.

**_"Iiiiiiit's haaaaaaard tooooo oooo-veeeer-staaaaate myyyyy saaaa-tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis-faaaaaaaaaaac-tioooooooooon…"_**

She tried to outpace the monsters, but they were too fast. Finally, one got in front of her foot and tripped her, sending her sprawling to the floor as they swarmed over her, biting into her flesh and eating away at her muscle and bones as they continued to sound their hellish song. She screamed in agony, tossing about frantically in an futile attempt to shake them off of her, until she no longer had the ability to writhe. Soon she had no lungs with which to scream, and then no body to move, leaving just her head to be slowly consumed.

Just before she succumbed, she saw a pair of black boots approach her, stopping just short of the machines.

"Sorry about that," the man sighed sadly, and her vision went dark.

She woke up with a jolt, looking around frantically. For a moment she was unsure where she was, until she remembered that she was going down south to L.A. She looked around to see that the entire car was coated in a thick layer of frost, and numerous icicles jutted out from the seat. Frustrated, she closed her eyes and concentrated. _Love will thaw… Love will thaw… _She opened her eyes, and to her pleasant surprise, she had managed to partially thaw it. She concentrated again, and when she opened her eyes again it was all gone. She smiled. Good to know that she could still feel warmth sometimes.

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, adrenaline still coursing through her veins as she returned back to reality. Though the nightmare was quite obviously not based off anything rational, there was something that bothered her immensely. The person singing had sounded familiar, and the boots also tugged at a memory she couldn't quite pull up. Hans? No, his voice was lower than the strange figure's. She knew it was someone she'd met before, someone who felt… dangerous. Behind the soft voice, there was something deadly, not unlike Hans, that made her wary.

Well, _if_ they met again, she'd be sure to tread carefully.

A quick check of the digital clock revealed the time to be 7:30. A little over 3 hours of rest, and an E.T.A. of 7:45. Good thing she'd woken up when she did.

The phone rang, and Elsa smirked as she recognized the tune. It was Bach's Little Prelude 2 in C minor, BWV 934– she knew how to play this on the piano. She answered the call. "Hello?"

"Hi, Elsa, it's me," Willow replied. "How's everything going?"

"Well enough," Elsa allowed. "I just had the worst nightmare I've had in years, but it was sleep nonetheless."

"What was it about?" Willow asked curiously.

"I was back at the base," Elsa began, "and the lights were flickering. Somebody threw a switch of some sort- and then these tiny, black _things_ started crawling out from around the next bend. They were making all sorts of… _noises… _shrieks and little _beeping_ noises. They- they _changed_ the halls- made the lights red and turned the floors and walls black and tessellated. There was someone _singing-_ and the dream ended with the things _eating me alive_ while the person singing came over and just said 'sorry about that.' It makes no sense."

"…Interesting," Willow replied eventually. "…How close are you to the E.L.E.'s headquarters?"

"A little under fifteen minutes away, so says the car," Elsa replied, stifling a yawn.

"Good. I have some happy news too."

"Oh? Do tell."

"I managed to hack into Jordan Belfort's account- _lots _of money."

"_Who?" _Elsa asked, extremely confused.

"He was a stock broker who was charged with fraud and money laundering- he was a scammer basically," Willow explained.

"Okay… so I presume he still has more than enough funds to help us?" Elsa asked pointedly.

_"No kidding-_ he has hundreds of millions- 3 million dollars is a drop in the bucket for him," Willow laughed. "So I'm sending someone from our L.A. outpost to get the cash from the bank while you're out with the E.L.E.'s team- make sure they don't foul anything up, y'know?"

"I understand," Elsa nodded.

"Goody. Also, just so you know, Doc's gonna be going too. Maybe see if you can warm him up any."

"Alright," Elsa agreed. "Will you be coming down later?"

"…I might," Willow admitted. "But not for very long. Like I said: built up a bit of a bad rep down there. On some hit lists."

"Okay, I don't understand what either of those mean," Elsa sighed.

"Rep is short for reputation, Elsa," Willow huffed. "A hit list is a list of people somebody wants to kill."

"Ah."

"But something will likely get screwed up somehow," Willow continued, "and we will need to be ready for that."

"I am," Elsa affirmed.

"Good. And remember- Doc is gonna be a bit… disagreeable if this does go through. Let's give him a little space."

"Willow, I only _just met _the man," Elsa laughed. "It's not like there was some sort of love-at-first-sight moment."

"Just saying- we're gonna need to leave him be for a little while."

"I know, Willow. I have far too much experience in leaving people alone."

* * *

Have you ever had one of those times when you say you want to be left alone when really you want just a certain person to talk to, but they aren't there? Doc was having one of those times right now.

The minutes seemed like hours- his blog had only taken a few minutes out of his pre-work day and he was too antsy to focus on the Freeze Ray. Bad Horse had sent the League an e-mail saying that, as per an alteration to the deal, they would be going downtown to get the wonderflonium themselves. Doc had appreciated the potential bookending- his first successful heist had been the '08 Wonderflonium Incident, which was key in his admittance to the E.L.E., and wouldn't it be just a _hoot_ if his last E.L.E. heist was for wonderflonium too?

Yeah. Right.

7:40. _Uuuuuuuuugh._

He swung open the door to the halls, beginning to wander aimlessly. He wanted to talk to Elsa, but she wasn't _here._ Why did it have to be that the only way he'd ever see her again involved being pulled out? Six of one, half-a-dozen of the other.

_If there is a god,_ he thought, _there will be a way to talk to her again without any caveats. Someone will come up with something._

He began to feel claustrophobic. The walls felt like they were losing in. He needed air. He rushed for the door, yearning for the warm morning air and the sun on his face to clear the dust swirling in his head so he could perhaps _think._

He reached the double doors, swinging them open dramatically-

**_And there she was, her right hand raised to knock on the door._**

_Oh my god._

_There she is._

_Whoever you are, I am eternally indebted to you for this and will never be able to fully express my gratitude._

"Why are you here?" he asked, shocked.

"I-I was sent," Elsa stuttered, her hand still raised.

"W-why?" Doc asked, still a bit amazed.

"She didn't want any… _convenient_ deterrences," Elsa eventually decided, lowering her hand.

_I immediately rescind my previous statement and hope I one day have the chance to curse your entire being in person._

_"Oh," _he snarled. "So you're here to make sure she wins."

"Hey, if you want to get mad at someone, get mad at her, not me," Elsa replied angrily.

"The friend of my enemy is my enemy until proven otherwise," Horrible shot back. _Nearly forgot that bit._

Elsa raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Impressive," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "how long did that take you to come up with?"

"Shorter than it took you for that devastating comeback," he snapped.

"Well, I'm glad to see we're apparently getting someone with no respect for others," Elsa said, giving him a baleful glare.

"Well, that happens, when you- y'know- aren't respectful to me," Horrible replied in a mocking deadpan.

"At least _one_ of us isn't trying to antagonize everyone he meets," Elsa responded coldly.

"Ooo- you've certainly got quite the acid tongue," he grinned.

"I like to think of it as a part of _literally_ being frosty," Elsa smirked.

"Okay… I see how this is- well, _could_ be," he corrected himself.

"You said _is," _Elsa pointed out.

"You're rigging the game- of course I'd be inclined towards pessimism," Horrible growled. "Although-" he mimed checking his watch, "it's what, 8? And you need everything by _noon?" _He grinned again, swinging his finger like a pendulum. "Tick-tock, tick-tock."

"Stop stalling and we'll all get to it," Elsa replied hotly. "Bad Horse promised."

His grin soured into a snarl. "Well then, let's start the show," he grumbled, stepping out into the sun and down the stairs. Without really thinking, he went for the driver's door of the car out front- but it didn't open. He looked down. It didn't have a handle! No, wait, it did- but it was flush with the surface.

_Oh. My. God._

This was the Tesla. _The_ Tesla. 2011-first-and-only-of-its-kind Tesla.

Or, more succinctly, a very cool car.

The door handle popped out suddenly, and he looked up to see Elsa smirk as she opened the passenger door, flaunting the key in her other hand.

"You think you're _so cool…"_ he muttered, a small smile crossing his face as he got in. "Got the fancy car, the fancy dress…"

"Only the best for the Queen," Elsa quipped.

He laughed as he pulled out onto the road. "You royalty and your fetish for shiny things."

They laughed, even the others in the back, before lapsing into silence.

After a few moments, he blurted, "This is a custom Tesla, right?"

"Um- I think so," Elsa replied, "but I'm not entirely certain."

"Hmm. See, I remember Dead Bowie said that back in early 2008 we were doing a big job, and we needed… _her_ help," he said tightly. "She agreed to help as long as we got her an über-Tesla as payment. Said it needed some sort of self-driving A.I. to- like- help drive in case her hands were full or something like that."

"Sorry, 'A.I.?" Elsa asked,

"Artificial Intelligence," Doc explained.

"Ah."

They were silent for a little while.

"You haven't been here long, have you?" Doc asked suddenly.

"No, no…" Elsa replied. "A few months at the most."

"Hmm… If everything goes according to the plan, what'll happen with me?" he asked. "Do you know?"

"You would come back to headquarters with me, get a tour of the building, and then have the night off before we start our next project," Elsa replied.

"What's it like there?" Doc asked. "Just out of curiosity."

"…Big," Elsa began, "…very organized… Everyone's pretty nice… They've got quite a lot of manpower."

"And this 'Miss Rosenberg'? What's she like?"

"Well-… I don't quite know where to begin," Elsa admitted. "She's… interesting. She's a witch… 'hacker'… She can be sarcastic sometimes, but she's nice as long as nobody gets her mad."

"And if they do?"

"Well, I haven't seen anything first-hand, but- I did hear her on the phone with Bad Horse last night-"

"Ohhh, that's what that was-" Doc realized.

"She was _livid,"_ Elsa continued. "About to snap."

"Hair-trigger temper?" Doc asked.

"What?"

"Quick to anger?" he tried again.

"Oh- no, not so much," Elsa shook her head. "Only if it's _really_ important- which that- this- is."

"You said 'that'," Horrible pointed out.

"I'm still- adjusting a little," Elsa dodged.

"So you're relatively new," he deduced.

"Not really-" Elsa said defensively.

"Why would she hire someone brand-new to become a _partner?" _he asked.

"Then why would she hire _you?" _Elsa shot back.

For a moment Horrible was silent, before laughing quietly in surprise.

"Well, you certainly can fight with the best," he said. "I'm impressed."

Elsa laughed bitterly. "Amazing what a little reality can change about a person."

His smile slowly vanished. "Here, here."

And they drove on into the city.

* * *

**15. You should have had 15 chocolates or sweets of your choosing last chapter. There was 1 Sherlock Holmes reference, 1 Portal reference, one Monster's Inc reference, 1 long Horrible Turn reference, 2 Welcome to Night Vale references, two Buffy references, three Frozen references, and three Sing-Along Blog references. Message me if you want to know where they were!**

**_"Aperture Science: We do what we must, because we can."_**

**Update: Due to the impending doom that is the pre-finals weeks, my schedule will be a bit spotty for a little while. Updates will continue, but most likely dialled back to every fortnight rather than every week.**

**Sorry about that.**


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